#JustWrite writing prompt: October


This week at school I gave my writers’ club students the following prompt:

There was knock at the door . . .

An oldie, but a goodie. Their eyes lit up and they had five minutes to come up with the opening of a new story. This is what the four of them individually came up with: a dead body, a shadowy figure, an alien space ship and an unknown being.

Yep. I did ask them if they enjoyed watching scary shows.

So, this month the prompt for you is the same. I tried to do something that wasn’t on the thriller scale, but I must admit it was my first reaction. Who doesn’t automatically think of something freaky happening on the other side of the door?

Remember, don’t think too hard about it. Just start writing and don’t edit. It’s all about getting some words out. Put your piece in the comments, I’d love to see what others come up with. Up to 600 words this month. Have fun!


There was a knock at the door.

‘Hang on a sec,’ she called out. She gave the simmering pot of tomatoes, garlic and basil a mix with the wooden spoon. The aroma teased her senses. Her heart stated to beat faster.

She wiped her hands on her apron and strode to the front door. She knows who is on the other side; a phone call had informed her of this earlier in the morning.

She stood at the closed door. Eyed the knob and willed it to open itself. I don’t know if I can do this. She startled when there was another loud knock.

She silently counted to five. Reached for the doorknob and took a deep breath at the same time.

A familiar face looked at her in anticipation. Another behind him, but this person was nervous and unsure. She stared in amazement at this second person.

‘Hello, June.’ The man grinned widely.

‘Good afternoon, Tom.’ She said without looking at him. She straightened her back. ‘Would you both like to come in?’

June stood aside and welcomed them in with a sweep of her arm.

Tom gave her a wink as he passed. The young woman, however, was rooted to the spot. Tears had formed in her eyes. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but closed it again.

Tears also welled in June’s eyes as she watched her. ‘Belinda?’

The other woman nodded.

‘I’d very much like to talk to you.’ June’s voice catches. She cleared her throat. ‘Please come in. I’ll put the kettle on.’ She walked back to the kitchen. Please come in.

June was grateful to hear the door close gently behind her, as she gave the tomato sauce another stir.

‘Mum?’ The voice wobbled.

She turned and gave the young lady a hesitant smile. ‘I believe so.’ June wiped her eyes. ‘You certainly look like me when I was younger.’

Belinda sobbed, ‘I’ve been looking for you for nearly ten years now. Ever since I turned eighteen.’

‘And I have looked for you for even longer. I didn’t want to give you up. My father gave me no choice. But he died not long after you were born and I’ve been searching ever since. Tom—,’ she gestured to him as he sat at the table between them, ‘is a magic detective. Wouldn’t give up after I asked him nine months ago to look for you.’

Belinda took a step forward. ‘We left the country. My parents took me to Canada and we lived there for fifteen years. They only told me when we got back . . .’

Tom stood. Glanced at Belinda. ‘I’ll leave you both to it.’ He took the few steps to June. ‘Are you good?’

She nodded.

He embraced her in a tight hug. ‘Hey, June?’ he whispered.

She looked to her godson who had almost been a surrogate son to her. ‘What?’ she whispered back.

‘I think she wants a hug.’ He gave her a final squeeze and left.

The two women stared at each other for a brief moment. It’s her. It’s definitely her. June walked quickly to her daughter and held Belinda’s face with her wrinkled hands. I’m not losing her again. Belinda crumpled into her mother’s arms.


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