My Writing Challenge

If you didn’t know already, I love writing and love getting other people equally as passionate too.

Over in my writing group, I hold a 5-Day Writing Challenge at the beginning of every month and last month my members voted that I write to a prompt too.

I haven’t written fiction for a few months so it was a pleasure to write to this prompt. I was pretty impressed with what I had produced so I am excited to share it with you here.

(DISCLAIMER: I do not own the prompt but I do own the writing I created from it.)


The world as she knew was coming to an end and there was nothing, literally nothing Wednesday could do to stop it. She glared at her reflection in the mirror and silently demanded the sadness in her eyes to disappear. They expected sadness, a solemn, woeful Wednesday, but she hated seeing the satisfaction in Thursday’s eyes when she was upset. He was the definition of misery loves company.

“Get. Your. Shit. Together.” Firm words uttered between Wednesday and her image, more menacing than supportive, but it was all she could do to cope with the next two hours. Two whole hours of pretending to be a vision of focus and happiness.

Footsteps outside the door of the toilets pulled her out of her thoughts. She turned the tap on and placed her hands under the cool running water, glancing over her shoulder to see a familiar blonde bob bounce in the room.

“Hey gorgeous! Have a great weekend?”

“Hey Monday, yeah it was okay. Yours?”

“It was alright. I’m feeling refreshed so expect me to power through this meeting. Did you get the email?” Monday stepped next to her, placed her bag on the sink before pulling out her statement pastel pink lipstick.

A wave of panic swept over Wednesday’s body. She hadn’t checked her emails. “What email? From who?”

“The one about the meeting this morning.”

“This morning? I haven’t even logged onto my computer yet. Was it important? What did it say?”

“Oh, just something about a deadline somebody missed.”

Monday pouted dutifully as she applied her lipstick with swift movements. It was like an art, a skill Wednesday admired but had been unable to master.

“Okay well I haven’t read it. Should I be worried?”

“No, no. I wouldn’t. Well, I don’t think it was aimed at me but she did seem kind of annoyed.”

“Who?” Wednesday pleaded with all the gods she believed in (and all the ones she didn’t) to hear any name but…
“Tuesday.”

Shit. Wednesday nodded, finally pulling her hands away from the sink and stood instead with them under the dryer, and her back to Monday as she mulled over how to best salvage the situation.

“Okay, I’ll see you in there then. Don’t hide in here for too long, you know we can’t start without you,” she said, tucking loose strands of her fair hair behind her angelic ears because that is what perfection did.

She waited until Monday left before she stepped back and used the sink to prop her up. This was impossible, this was hard. This was tougher than pretending her new work shoes didn’t pinch her toes. Monday clearly didn’t know what had happened, the news of her misgivings hadn’t travelled that far yet and for that Wednesday was grateful. But still, the idea of facing Tuesday made her nauseous.

“Sort your shit out, damn!” She whispered to herself, before picking up her bag, straightening her blazer and heading out of her temporary sanctuary.

There were three teas, two coffees, one orange juice and one peppermint tea for when Friday was finished serving. The refreshment orders never changed for the group and Friday loved that. She pushed the trolley around the table as she placed each drink at the seat of the assigned owner. They always arrived in the same order, sitting in the same places, drinking the same drinks, making the same points and leaving in the same way they always did, as the days of the week were creatures of habit.

Monday arrived first, smiling broadly and ready to take on the week’s work. She played with her hair as she sipped her orange juice, making small talk with Saturday as the others arrived.

Tuesday floated in with grace, each step taken effortlessly as she found her place at the head of the table. 
Wednesday crept in slowly, her face full of emotion as she mumbled a “Good morning” to nobody, her eyes on the ground.

Thursday could be heard long before he entered the room, his voice boomed through the character at some poor sod on the other end of the phone who probably didn’t deserve it. The chip on his shoulder turned into a grey mist as he stomped towards his chair and exhaled in a way that demanded attention, but nobody paid attention to.

Friday dug into the compartments of the trolley, feeling around the cardboard contents until her fingers brushed against plastic. She leaned over to Wednesday and smiled, “Biscuit with your tea? You look like you need it.”

Wednesday raised her gloomy eyes, allowing them to connect with Friday and all the warmth she came with. “Thank you, Wends.”

“Can someone give me a hand please?” A familiar voice called from beyond the door, prompting Thursday to end his call and get up from his seat to assist.

Saturday walked in backwards, pulling a grey sack into the room. Thursday watched for a moment, before remembering his role as macho male and then took over completely, picking up the sack and placing it at the front of the room.

“This is a bit heavy for you Saturday. Did you bring it up here yourself?” He said, looking at her red blotchy face with concern.

“Yes, it is heavy and yes, I did bring it up myself. Next question?” She raised a carefully plucked eyebrow at her opponent, almost willing him to take her invitation to battle so she could rip his head off.

“Alright, no need to be touchy,” Thursday said, frowning as he walked back to his seat. He wished he never bothered at all. They all moaned when he didn’t try, and they didn’t appreciate it when he did.

“And there’s no need to imply that I am useless without you.”

“Good morning, Saturday. Your coffee is cooling down, I’ve put some biscuits out to help keep you going.” Friday chirped up, her infectious positive vibrations defusing the atmosphere.

They all settled into their chairs, pulling out various notebooks, laptops and diaries as they prepared for the meeting ahead. They spoke between themselves until it was 9am and the plasma screen at the end of the room became alive.

They looked on eagerly, waiting for the leader of the week to start the meeting.

In a matter of seconds, an image of a child appeared on the screen, with a beaming smile and eyes full of wisdom.

“Good morning all, so good to see you again for the annual conception meeting,” Sunday said.

“Good morning, oh great one. We’re looking forward to getting started,” said Tuesday, her composed exterior hiding her excitement.

“Well, we do have an agenda for the next generation but before we get started… Wednesday, I think you need to update us with the progression of the Situation Ship. You know that’s not going to fit in with our long-term plans, don’t you?”


As I mentioned above, I haven’t written fiction for a little while so this really was a challenge. But I am happy with the results.

 

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