This week the Inkwell writing contest featured the prompt, "roll". In addition to the prompt, there was a skill challenge: create an antagonist. I thought I'd do a take-off on the prompt/skill challenge, and double down. Not only would my story use the prompt word, "roll", but it would use the word in every single sentence.
I don't recommend this technique for crafting intelligent, worthy stories. However meeting this challenge does require a certain exercise in verbal flexibility. That is always good for sharpening skills.
This is how it started:
When I walked into the kitchen that grim day and saw Meghan raise the rolling pin above her head, I had no intimation of the calamity that would follow. The brandished rolling pin triggered a flashback in my mind to the movie Psycho. While nothing in Meghan's demeanor resembled the demeanor of Psycho's demented killer, still the rolling pin image stayed with me as I drifted off to sleep.
Oh, what horrible rolling pin night terrors ensued! Dark images of rolled dough. Sinister shadows of hot cross rolls cooling on an endless stream of windowsills. Even a poisoned apple pie edged with delicately rolled crust.
I rolled about in my bed and slept little as these gruesome fantasmas plagued my slumber.
The next morning I rolled out of bed with great reluctance. I knew Meghan had been startled by my reaction to her rolling pin the day before. She was usually a relaxed girl who rolled along with whatever seemed to be happening in the moment. But that morning, when I entered the kitchen, she rolled her eyes at me, and asked, "Any more attitude from you today, Eric?"
There was no way to know if the rolling pin drama would pass quickly from Meghan's mood, or if she would hold a grudge. I rolled the cereal caddy around to select a small box of bran flakes, took what I needed, and rushed out of the kitchen. I could eat on the way to work as the Citi bus rolled through the tightly congested streets.
There was a kind of rolling pin penumbra that covered everything I saw. Why did that rolling pin affect me so deeply? If I closed my eyes I could imagine a huge, boulder-like pin rolling down a mountain toward me, unstoppable and deadly.
Work did not offer respite from my rolling pin chimera. Everywhere there seemed to be rolls. Cinnamon rolls on the coffee cart that rumbled past. Heart-shaped rolls that taunted on the lunch counter.
I knew by late afternoon that I needed to talk to my therapist about my roll fixation.
The therapist answered the phone and said, "Can you hold on for a minute Eric, as I finish my freshly buttered roll? I hate it when a roll gets cold, don't you?"
I hung up the phone, which rested on a roller-shaped cradle. It was obvious that no earthly intervention could save me from the spectre of the rolling pin. I designed the sterling silver rolling pin talisman myself, and I have worn it ever since. Whenever the image or idea of a roll or rolling pin enters my head now, I clutch the talisman and am instantly comforted.
I can walk through a bakery today and gaze with ease upon rows of rolls and a floured rolling pin. As long as I grasp the talisman I am assured that never will I be harmed by any simple or compound expression containing the word 'roll'.
Did I have fun with this? You know it. I invite all my readers who like to have fun and who have a creative spark (we all have a creative spark) to jump in and write something. Don't worry about being fancy, or impressive. Just let your mind roam free. Surprise yourself. Surprise us.
I challenge you!
(By the way: the antagonist? A rolling pin馃槃)
@muelli