Also here's a fun website I came across. I usually get my random words from the dictionary but found this site instead and it gives you the number of random words you want!
http://creativitygames.net/random-word-generator/randomwords/4
I chose four words and thought they were just hysterical. Hence the below writing exercise. Give it a try, if nothing else, it gives you a good laugh at very random words. I had so much fun doing this exercise that I didn't want to stop. It ended up longer than usual. And I was so curious to see where it would go. Now it's your turn!
My words: Hosepipe, remote control, fault, Satan
Hosepipe in hand, I crept along the
house, peeking in the windows swiftly, not being seen. Or so I thought.
Sneaking around to the back of the
house, I opened the screen door. Straight out of a movie, no lie, the hinges
creaked. And not just when I opened it, it creaked before, during and after.
Ssshhhing them did not help.
My sweaty hand had a loose grip on
the pipe. My weapon of choice. Or more accurately, the only thing I could find.
The TV was on in the living room. I was in the kitchen on squeaky clean linoleum of all things. I couldn’t be
quiet if the TV volume was all the way up and the person watching had earbuds
in blasting their favorite tunes.
The element of surprise was so far
gone I didn’t know what to do.
So I slipped off my shoes and
tiptoed towards the lighted archway of the living room.
The remote control rested on the coffee
table. Large sneakered feet were planted on the floor in front of the couch. The
fat, bald man with a dark bushy mustache had his head back, mouth wide open.
Sleeping! On my couch! What the…
It was my fault the robber was in
the house in the first place. I lost my key and ran to the store thinking the
house would be okay for a few minutes. Okay, ran to the mall and maybe I saw some
friends there but I didn’t stay long-er than an hour or two maybe three. But
that’s no excuse for someone to break in – well, open the door and walk in and
sleep on my couch. What kind of a burglar does that? Not a very good one.
Did I mention I also lost my phone?
No? Why else would I be risking my life instead of calling 9-1-1.
A hand came from the dark behind me
and covered my mouth. The other hand and arm dragged me back into the kitchen.
I might have peed then.
The person turned me around and I saw
it was my friend Jesus. Not Jesus Christ but Jesus Medina. My eyes bugged so
far out of my head I could barely focus. He let go of my mouth slowly.
“Satan’s shit, Jesus! What the…”
He put a finger to his mouth and
produced my phone from his pocket.
I grabbed it and pushed him through
the kitchen door outside. It creaked like it was going to break right off. It
sounded as if the whole neighborhood would wake. Everyone except the stranger
on the couch.
I stared at Jesus like I wanted to
murder him and hit 9-1-1 instead.
