TEN MINUTE FREEWRITE
Let's look up a new writing prompt...
Not the greatest image quality here, but that's okay! Let's give it a whirl.
My name is Flora and I'm strange.
Well, I'm not totally strange. Everyone in my world is strange. We've been that way since the Crash, when some strange rod crashed into ground and buried itself into our planet.
Yeah, really imaginative name, I know.
Ever since the Crash, which happened God knows how long ago (I don't really pay attention in history class) we've all been given powers.
Don't get excited. This isn't a typical Superman story with leapers of tall buildings and stoppers of speeding bullets. No, our powers are decidedly less exciting.
Mom, for example, can set her eyelashes on fire. Not exactly superhero worthy, though Mom did say it played a part in her ability to catch Dad.
Dad on the other hand, can turn sand into blueberries. Sand. Into blueberries. You can imagine he's popular at school when it's time for bake sales, though I suspect our town is sick of blueberry pies and pastries.
My brother is a little more interesting. He can swap genders. I'll still never forget the day that mom came into his bedroom when he was three months old. She screamed that someone had taken their baby and replaced it with someone else. It took almost a week before she discovered the baby was spontaneously changing gender. He usually stays male. Says it's easier to pee. Go figure. He does have a lot more options at Halloween though.
Me? I'm strange. I have one of the few powers that might actually be considered useful. I can measure how dangerous someone is.
When I see people, a tiny number appears just above their head, like a rating. It took me a long time to figure out what the rating meant. When I was a kid, I thought it was a hawtness rating or something. Imagine my disappointment when I found out I was wrong.
Now most people rate low. I've met several people who rate even below a one and have some kind of decimal point. Most people rate between decimal points and a two.
The highest I ever met was a six. That was the day the policeman visited our school for a bomb threat. I only caught a glimpse of him as he ran by our window, but the six really made me shutter. After seeing ones and twos my whole life, a six practically meant death was staring me in the face.
So you can imagine my shok when the new kid walked in with an eleven hovering over his head.
I've been wanting to write something with that for a while. XD It was a lot of fun.
Do you have a writing prompt suggestion? Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or comment below!