Prompt
Scene with dialogue only, 2 characters, Mother and Son (convey one of these words: guilty, depressed, surprised, panicked, excited, disgusted, lonely, angry, passionate, confused)
Late afternoon. Jeremy has returned home from his college semester in Paris, junior year, mid-semester because of the Covid-19 pandemic. Mom is in the kitchen preparing a roast for dinner.
Jonah enters, rubbing his eyes and yawning, in red and black check pajama pants and wrinkled orange t-shirt with holes, hair uncombed
M:
Good morning, Sunshine! Or I should say good afternoon – or good evening.
J:
Hey. What time is it anyway?
M:
Honey, it’s 6:30 in the evening. You’ve been sleeping all day. Or have you?
J:
Yeah, I guess so
M:
What kind of schedule are you on, anyway?
J:
Not on one. A schedule?
M:
Yes, Jeremy. You’ve been back from Paris for ten days now. And still I never know when you’ll show up – and what condition you’ll be in.
J:
Hm. I don’t know either. I guess I’m not really used to being back here, in this house. It’s not very dark in my room at night…
M:
What do you mean? This is the house you grew up in? You haven’t been gone that long! You were here all summer, and at Christmas… You know your dad and I would like to see you sometime while the sun is still out.
J:
You would? Why? I mean I’m not even supposed to BE here. I can’t believe you made me leave Paris for this corona thing. I don’t have anything to do here but sleep.
M:
What about eating? What about going outside?
J:
mmm
M:
You look so pale, honey – and thin. And your sisters live here, too, you know. They’d like to see you once in a while.
Mary Lee Gosz
Prompt
Create a scene of choas:
Egg shell on the floor
Broken into two pieces
No egg yolk
No egg white
Just the cat on the bench
Purring
Danielle Schönfeld
prompt
It's your fault!
It is your fault!
Standing in my wet pants, looking at my wet feet, a passer-by’s elbow hits me in my rips. “Walk on, god dam it”, an angry voice shouts at me. The kick in the side, his voice makes me come back to the surroundings. Metro station, Alexander Platz, Berlin at half past eleven on a Friday night. People are crowding up on the platform. I can’t see the end of it. In my pocket I feel metallic round coins and play with them. The night is vibrating with youngsters wanting out to party. Yelling, screaming and laughing. My wet clothes hang in sticky patches on to my skin. I wonder how long it will take for me to be dried up again. It is a steaming humid wall of the summer overheated city, a soup of sweat wet drying damp evaporates to the ceiling of the ground station. No chance for fresh air from above to sink down. What the hell? Too bad I can’t smoke. Two stations and I will be at the neighborhood you live in. I still have time to catch a drink in the summer garden at the dance café that looks like a piece of preserved 20th. My phone will last two more hours the battery status shows. I don’t care I hear myself suddenly say out loud. I will see if I can find Jonas at the bar black where he hangs out every Friday. The Black closes at 4, after that we can have a beer at the park and wait till the Brunch place opens at 10 am. Around 6 pm you should have landed and be back at your apartment. The plane lands around 4:30 from London. You and your surprises! Messing up my surprises.
Danielle Schönfeld
[comments:]
later you can rework on it. Are the locations right, is it two stops from Alexander Platz, does a airplane land at that time?]