“Hey where did you go?” Steve poked his head in the bedroom door to see Jen packing their suitcase. He sighed, stepped through the door and quietly closed it behind him. “Jen, do we really need to do this now?” His voice was hushed and he cast a nervous glance to the door.

(Another Twitter-prompted story!) Henry’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel and he kept leaning forward to peer up at the sky. He didn’t like this — being out in the open plains with nasty-looking black clouds rolling in. He would much rather be back at his mundane suburban house leading his mundane suburban life.…

Inspire by Mad Libs, I have a writing exercise where I ask others to provide certain things and then create a story based off what people suggest. I asked Twitter for: a means of transportation; an animal; a weapon that doesn’t shoot bullets; an article of clothing; a profession; and a food so bad you wouldn’t…