Written in response to The Daily Post’s prompt “shock.” (You can find the post here.)
My first inclination, on seeing the writing prompt for today, was to write a short scene involving one or two, maybe three, of my original characters, people I treasure in secret because how can I share their existence with someone else? They belong to me until I let them out into the world. But then I realize, who do I pick? Which of my beloved characters will be the one who ends up in today’s prompt-inspired post? As I write this, I realize I’m not actually writing about the prompt. I’m not writing a scene in which shock plays a pivotal role. I’m not writing about any of the plethora of shock-inducing occurrences in which my characters could be involved.
Would the real world be shocked at the abundance of characters that exist in my head? Would they squirm if they knew? Take Nick, for instance. Nick and I have many similarities. As he slowly gains a clearer form, as his outline grows more solid, as he emerges from the consuming fog that is my barely-tapped imagination, I like him more. We are friends. He might avoid me, and I might be a little scared at his hidden ferocity, but we can never be separated. His world is also my world.
Shock, you say? I can shock people. I’m a writer. That’s what we do.