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a watchful eye of creative complexity
Looking for a second prompt during our second writing group meeting, my coworkers and I scoured the books at Open Books, which is where we usually meet. After about fifteen minutes of unsuccessful prompt-finding, we suddenly noticed the mysterious man hanging on the wall. We found the painted man really intriguing, so we decided to spend ten minutes writing about him.
I am blind. Well, a bit blind. I can see shapes and outlines. I can see a few colors, sometimes. Here and there I get bright colors—much too saturated—but I mostly see muted tones and very little contrast. My friend Jeremy gave me these glasses he constructed. You see, he’s a scientist. Well, he practices science with all sorts of experiments here and there, mostly unsuccessful, with the occasional achievement. He’s had no schooling or anything, just his mind and a thirst for making new things, even if unsuccessfully. I’ve worn these glasses for two hours and so far, not much has changed. I have to go to a ball tonight and Jeremy insists that I wear them. As if they don’t already clash with my neck brace. He can be such an idiot sometimes, but I can’t hate him; he’s always there for me, wanting to help me; of course, his attempts at “help” are largely unsuccessful, but he’s passionate and I won’t stop him. I feel suffocated. Woah! I just got a burst of light. Hey, wait, is your hair blue? Because it looks blue. In fact, everything looks weird. Why are my hands red? My skin… it looks red! Why does this house look so white and bright Everything looks odd, although I can see your eyes now. Your eyes! They are so beautiful, so clear and radiant. What color! I have never seen such an intense green before. Okay, stop looking at me. Your eyes, they are so piercing, so intense. I can’t go to the ball like this. I’m taking these glasses off. Why are my hands still red? Your eyes, they are just so green. Greener than I remember anything ever being. But why are they still green? I took the glasses off! And your hair is blue, and my hands are red. How will I look at the ball now?
For our second creative writing group meeting, we used the following picture and story as a prompt.
Again, we had ten minutes to write. Here is my story.
Food was scarce. Nuclear war destroyed all vegetation, all animals. Almost one billion people died and another two billion died of hunger. Starvation was still rampant. Every day, people were dropping like rainfall. The population was continually plummeting and could not be replaced by births. The nuclear fallout caused infertility. Children could no longer be born. Scientists and scholar worked everyday to clone successful humans and produce food. It was hard to make something worthwhile because all of Earth was plagued with dangerous chemicals. The human clones kept getting diseased and dying within a short period of time. The food reproduced was always rotten and unsuitable for consumption. One day, they tried combining the science—food plus human beings—and discovered that the humans were fresh long enough to be devoured and that they tasted just like meat. They monitored the experiment and found no immediate issues. They began distributing this packaged “human” food to each doorstep in the country. The Marzes family opened their door to find another package on their doorstep. They already had two left to eat before this one arrived. They decided to figure out a way to raise this “human” as their child.