SongSpired

A source of inspiration, ideas, and prompts. This blog does not support AI generative writing, nor are any of the prompts AI generated

[songspired]

The forest held many secrets and gossiped about them frequently.

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They were called Knight Mayors, authority figures of anyone who considered themselves a knight.

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She very cleverly got her lemon tree to taste like oranges.

Who knew why.

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They found that cats were the perfect spies. So many people willingly brought them into their homes.

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It was an intelligent disease, able to find the most annoying symptoms but avoid tests that would detect it. It knew when the worst time to flare up was, and when to quiet down so its host had no excuse. It devoured medicines like candy, and showed no signs of stopping down. Many believed it to be an illness of paranoia.

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The ocean was lavender. The sky was gold.

The possibilities limited.

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"How do you have her?!"

"Some things happened, and stuff, and she fell into my hands. But listen, I need you to-"

"Ah, no no no! They aren't supposed to exist anymore, so I'm going to need a bit more of an explanation."

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A ferocious beast dwelled in the bottoms of the caves, waiting for someone to come and provide it opportunity to feed.

Despite this, a whole civilization lived in the upper caves.

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Each night, another star joined the sky.

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Just one story. One story where no one dies. The villain repents. The world is fixed.

Just one story.

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The king would give the princess to whoever could complete three tasks:

Pluck an apple.

Remove a paperweight.

Pay a cent.

Despite the ease of these tasks, the princess remains unmarried.

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The characters were never supposed to find the plot holes. But a side character fell into one.

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In order to figure out what happened, they needed to put the shattered shards of memory back together. But the memory was tainted.

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The villain found a suit of plot armor.

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The argument came to abrupt stop when the party heard the distant anthem of the queen’s royal army.

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If she stood still long enough, she could hear the ice singing to her.  Calling her to come in, gently whispering to her of all the secrets it held.  Before she knew it, her feet had already wandered into the entrance.

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The problem for the detective wasn’t finding the clues.  It was trying to find a plausible reason for how he managed to find the clues without giving away the actual reason.