Last year I bought a “Word A Day” desk calendar in a charity shop, and although I’m not doing them daily, I’m using them as prompts to freewrite a short passage. These are the ones I’ve done this month.
Day 119: Peened (adj). Beaten by a hammer.
Everything can be a weapon. Your mind would usually go to a bat, or to a hammer. But everything in the house could be a weapon. You just have to use a little imagination.
Day 120: Adumbrate (vb). To give a sketchy outline of.
I’d spent a lifetime working on my art. A degree in art history, as well as several years at a creative college. I’d spent every night drawing and sketching and painting. I AM AN ARTIST! And yet I made my living making dodgy sketches of suspects for the police.
Day 121: Discombobulate (vb). To confuse, upset or frustrate.
This is why I never left the house. This is why I stayed in my bubble, where it was safe. There was too much out here. Too many people, too much noise, too much light. There’s too much out here. Too much. My brain hurts.
Day 122: Suffuse (vb). To spread over or through something.
The sunlight had dimmed. It was bright 2 seconds ago, but something was wrong. I headed to the window – something was definitely wrong. There was a deep green tinge to the clouds on the horizon. And it was getting greener. The clouds were growing closer.
Day 123: Propinquity (noun). Nearness in time or space.
He was here. I could feel his presence by my side. I would always, ALWAYS, have him next to me, but I would never be able to touch him. He was trapped. A millisecond in the past, but enough to put him on a different plane and beyond my reach.
Day 124: Syzygy (noun). An alignment of the sun, earth and moon.
I slept through it. The world was going crazy about this magnificent celestial event, this once in a lifetime opportunity. And I slept through it. I sleep through a lot of things. Syzygy, eclipses, earthquakes. My own wedding. Which is why I was still single.