Writing Prompt - Dear Pizza Man...
Today's prompt is "Dear Pizza Man,".
Here's what I came up with in 10 minutes.
Dear Pizza Man,
Click here for the list of prompts in case you need some more.
Here's what I came up with in 10 minutes.
Dear Pizza Man,
I think I love you. I'm sure you hear that a lot, but please know that I am truly and deeply in love with you. As I dial your number, I can feel my heart beating out of my chest, I can hardly hear the phone ringing on the other end. A voice answers and it's not you. I tell the voice all about how I dream of you and how I can't wait for your next visit. He takes my message and ensures me that you'll be at my door in 45 minutes.
I hang up the phone and run to my room. 45 minutes! I need to change. Fix my hair. Set the table. I rifle through my closet. Laying out several outfits, but opting for a bizzy pattern, lest things get crazy. I run to the front window and watch as light from the street come through the haze of the sheer curtains. I look down to my watch. It's only been 20 minutes. That can't be you. I catch my breath. I am on the edge of my seat as the car passes by. It wasn't you. I lie back on the couch and take a moment to remember the last time I saw you, so dapper and professional looking in your uniform. I know you hate it when I call it that, but I think the colour of that delivery bag brings out the blue in your eyes. Every time I hear the rip of Velcro I get goose bumps, and look around to see if you're near. My dream is interrupted by the crunching of gravel outside. I hear the familiar screech of your car as it comes to a stop. Jump, jump, jump. I need to get all this nervous energy out of me! I do a little dance in the foyer, then peek out the side window as I hear your boots walk the steps to the door. Doorbell. I let out a quiet squeal as I compose myself. I can smell you and I am happy.
I hang up the phone and run to my room. 45 minutes! I need to change. Fix my hair. Set the table. I rifle through my closet. Laying out several outfits, but opting for a bizzy pattern, lest things get crazy. I run to the front window and watch as light from the street come through the haze of the sheer curtains. I look down to my watch. It's only been 20 minutes. That can't be you. I catch my breath. I am on the edge of my seat as the car passes by. It wasn't you. I lie back on the couch and take a moment to remember the last time I saw you, so dapper and professional looking in your uniform. I know you hate it when I call it that, but I think the colour of that delivery bag brings out the blue in your eyes. Every time I hear the rip of Velcro I get goose bumps, and look around to see if you're near. My dream is interrupted by the crunching of gravel outside. I hear the familiar screech of your car as it comes to a stop. Jump, jump, jump. I need to get all this nervous energy out of me! I do a little dance in the foyer, then peek out the side window as I hear your boots walk the steps to the door. Doorbell. I let out a quiet squeal as I compose myself. I can smell you and I am happy.
Click here for the list of prompts in case you need some more.
