Sunday Writing Exercise #1

random 1


Every Sunday I’m going to be uploading a random photograph and creating a story behind it.  This is an old writing exercise that I find very entertaining and powerful.  Most writing exercises have restrictions or themes; this one is just a simple picture to go off of.  You can have how many ever words of a thriller, a horror, suspense, ect.  It can be mostly dialogue or mainly action. It’s all on the writer!  I’m only aiming at between 300-500 words for each picture. Also, if anyone else would like to create their own story on these pictures then please do so by leaving comments!


***Note:  So, this exercise isn’t suppose to be something that takes all day or you edit and re-draft and ect.  I took about 30-40 minutes and wrote these 704 words about the picture. It’s not exactly great, but it’s a story. Also, I tried to keep it short but it’s hard to do for some stories. Hope you all enjoy!***



Miranda hated packing; she hated moving in general and most of all, she hated meeting new people. She had done this four years before when she was 12 and her father had been hired at a new factory across state.

The sun was out and shining, beating down and lashing any person that didn’t have sunscreen on. It was hot and people weren’t exactly in a happy mood unless they were laying by a pool or beach or relaxing inside.

Miranda took the last box into her room and lay it down with the others which created a wall of boxes that towered over her.
“This is stupid,” She muttered to herself.
“What is?” Miranda’s mother said peeking into the room and quickly glancing around.

“This! Moving again!”

“I know hunny, but your father needs this to support us. Sure, it’s a smaller house than we’re used to, but it’s way cheaper to own and maintain.”

Miranda wanted to say how her father should of gotten a better job a long time ago instead of having them live paycheck to paycheck. Miranda wanted to say how pathetic her life has been living of off food stamps because they couldn’t bring in enough income. She wanted to say a lot of things, but she held it in like always.

“Now start unpacking, we’ll try to have dinner at a decent time tonight,” Miranda’s mother said walking away.

Miranda began sifting through her boxes dividing them into those that stayed out and those that went into her closet. Once this was done, she inspected her new closet which was half the size of her old one. It had a pull string light and two racks on each side to hang clothes.

“God! I’m going to have to fold and stack my clothes on the floor,” she muttered as she looked down at the old wooden floor of the closet.
Something caught her eye in the back of the closet on the floor. One of the boards were lifted up slightly. It looked like it might pop up.
Miranda walked in and squatted down to the board and pulled it up with little effort. She couldn’t make out what was inside.
She reached her hand in and felt something furry. Immediately she shot her hand out, “Oh god it’s a dead animal!” She felt a little nauseous. But where was the smell? If something was dead it would of smelled horrible, she said to herself.
Hesitantly, she slowly reached her hand back in and pulled out a hand full of dusty fur. Once in the light she examined it.
“It’s…a hat..” She muttered feeling a little bit embarrassed for freaking out.
She rolled her eyes. It was quite ugly, something a red neck or hillbilly would wear. As she looked it over, a note fell out.

“This was my favorite hat. I wore it everywhere I went, even if it was blazing balls outside. I’m leaving it because my father made it for me and he just died of lung cancer. It hurts to hold onto now or even look at. I hope whoever finds this will take care of it and that they have both their parents to love

Miranda was speechless; there was a pit in the bottom of her stomach that slowly faded as she stared at the note for a few seconds longer before reappraising the hat she held. Maybe it wasn’t THAT ugly. Maybe it was a sort of a cool fashion statement.
She brushed the hat off and put it on. Miranda walked out of her room and found her dad bringing the last box from the moving truck in.
She hugged him as he passed by.

“Whoa, what’s up little lady?”


“Umm..alright..Nice hat ya got there,” Miranda’s dad said as they stood for a few seconds in the hallway of their new house. “Hey, I found my camera in one of the older boxes. Why don’t you start taking some pictures of the new house. We can do some kind of ‘Before and After’ scrapbook for your mother.”

“Sounds good dad,” Miranda said squeezing one last time before fetching the camera. She went outside and started taking pictures.




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