In our quest to encourage creativity, we post a writing prompt every other Friday. Write a story with the prompt as the first line. Share your story below or on social media using the tag #FirstLineFriday. We can’t wait to see your stories!
Charlene slumped into her car, exhausted. She pulled the rumpled ones out of her pocket to count before putting her keys in the ignition. No matter how hard she worked, there never seemed to be enough money. Her feet ached from serving at Sal’s all day, and she knew no matter how many times she showered she wouldn’t be able to rinse the smells of red sauce and garlic out of her hair. It wasn’t that she hated working at her uncle’s Italian restaurant, but she wasn’t going to get anywhere if she stayed. She had to leave. Soon.
Charlene slumped into her car, exhausted. She could still hear the race going around here, but the clunker she drove didn’t stand a chance. She should’ve known better than to trust Tommy’s iron-plated words. The doofus sold her a malfunctioning nav system, and all the work she did the last week was for aught. The car’s sensors couldn’t find the metal strip of road burried beneath the Earth. That meant no racing, no victory, no prize. Worse, it meant returning home empty-handed.
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