Novel Kicks Fiction Friday: Opposites

Novel Kicks Fiction FridayFiction Friday is our weekly writing prompt. The aim is to write for a minimum of five minutes and then keep going for as long as you can. Once you’ve finished, don’t edit, just post in the comments box below.

Today’s prompt: Opposites

Your first character is a shop assistant. They are making it very clear to everyone around them that they are not happy. They are a pessimist.

The customer is having a wonderful day. They are naturally happy and see joy in everything. They are the optimist.

Write a conversation between these two about the weather.

 

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Laura
I’m Laura. I started Novel Kicks in 2009. I wanted a place to post my writing as well as give other writers like me the opportunity to do the same. There is also a monthly book club, a writing room which features writing prompts, book reviews, competitions, author interviews and guest posts.

I grew up by the sea (my favourite place in the world) and I currently live in Hampshire. I am married to Chris, have a cat named Buddy and I would love to be a writer. I’m trying to write the novel I’ve talked so much about writing if only I could stop pressing delete. I’ve loved writing since creative writing classes in primary school. I have always wanted to see my teacher Miss Sayers again and thank her for the encouragement. When not trying to write the novel or writing snippets of stories on anything I can get my hands on, I love reading, dancing like a loon and singing to myself very badly. My current obsession is Once Upon a Time and I would be happy to live with magic in the enchanted forest surrounded by all those wonderful stories provided that world also included Harry Potter. I love reading chick lit. contemporary fiction and novels with mystery.

One Response to Novel Kicks Fiction Friday: Opposites

  • Justin opened the door to the hardware store. A bell on the door tinkled merrily and he instantly felt welcomed. He wandered through shelves of screws and washers, toilet repair kits and dryer vent hoses until he spotted what he wanted: a digital thermometer that recorded high and low temperatures.

    He took it off the peg that it was hanging from and read the features panel, imagining where he would place the outdoor sensor and where he would hang the digital display. He was so excited about his find that he didn’t see the small grey-haired woman standing in front of him, her hands on her hips.

    “Howdy,” said Justin amiably.

    “Back atcha,” replied the woman. “Do want to buy it or do you just want to read the packaging?”

    “Well, I think this will work. I’m going to try and grow tomatoes and need to know when it’s warm enough to put the seedlings in the ground.”

    “Tomatoes? Who put that idea in your head?”

    Justin looked at her with dismay. “I used to grow them where I lived.”

    “Well you don’t live there no more and no one in his right mind grows tomatoes here. It’s too cold in the spring and when it warms up its gets too hot. In the fall, the insects eat everything. Damn dumbest idea…”

    “I get that, but I’ve read that certain varieties do well here but you’ve got to plant them just as the soil warms up. You wrap them with garden cloth on the chilly days or when it’s windy.”

    “Really? You’re going to spend all that time wrapping and unwrapping a bunch of plants when you can buy tomatoes cheaper than all that.”

    “Not heirloom tomatoes. Not the good ones.”

    “I’ll take your money,” said the woman. “But don’t come back here whining about dead tomato plants and such.”

    Justin looked at the thermometer. It was expensive. Heirloom tomatoes were susceptible to lots of diseases. The old woman was probably right. It was a stupid idea.

    “Thanks for the advice,” he said sadly and left the store.

    “Who was that?” asked the woman’s husband.

    “Just this guy was telling me how to grow heirloom tomatoes.”

    “Oh my god,” said the man. “They are the best. You never tasted anything so good.”

    The woman went to the shelf and took down the thermometer. Nodding to herself, she yelled to her husband: “Where do we keep the garden cloth?”

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