Easier Said Than Done

Friday again. Wahoo! Blogathon number fifteen. The weeks of writing are just flying by! Today's prompt is a bit different than the others so far. A little bit of fiction. Write a very short piece of prose that begins with the phrase, "The night was replaying in her mind like an irritating pop song.”

I almost feel like I have to write a disclaimer today…. Listen people, I am actually a pretty decent writer. If I had taken more time on this I am sure I could have come up with something better. But that is the beauty of this blogathon. I just write. I don’t strive for perfection. I don’t get crazy about the little things. I am just having fun with it (and yes…. I used the word “damn” for those who dislike even the mildest of colorful metaphors, it just seemed like it needed it). I just wrote down the assigned sentence and started writing. I don’t know where this came from and I certainly don’t know where it is going. That is the beauty of a little chunk of prose. The writer doesn’t have to know. That is up to the imagination of the reader. 

Yeah this one is certainly easier said than done. But here goes....

The night was replaying in her mind like an irritating pop song. What was it about these events anyway that made her flesh crawl? The loud music, the mindless chatter, the hundreds of people suffocating in a tiny room. But this time was worse than it had ever been. Not because anything was particularly different…. But because she could not get it out of her head for the life of her.

She fiddled with the straps on her heels as she prepared to venture out on another day. Living the dream. She let out a humorless laugh at the thought. How come they don’t tell you the dream is really just that – a dream. 

It was just another Katy Perry song that one hates and yet somehow knows all the words to. Over and over it plays until every line is torture. The boss she had to schmooze, the balding guy who hit on her, the inappropriate jokes she had to laugh at. When would it end? 

And it hit her then with a horrifying and sobering revelation. It wouldn’t. Once the final chords play and she feels she has a moment to breathe, it will be just another song on another damn night. 

After all, this was her life. 

Want to try your hand at this fun little creative writing prompt? I am interested in reading. Link below!