Hi guys! It’s Wednesday and time for another writing prompt. My picture today is super simple, but I heard the sound of it as soon as I saw it. Though there are no people in this picture, I couldn’t get past the sound, so my scene focused on that. Who is hearing the sound? are they irritated, anxious? Is the sound soothing to them, or a source of stress? What scene comes to mind for you. 

For me, the sound would be grating, a reminder of tasks undone. Just one more thing to add to my character’s list. Writing can be so personal sometimes, a little piece of you slipping into your characters as you write them. I myself am feeling overwhelmed, so it was only natural I would write a character who would feel that way as well. 

As always with my writing prompts, it’s lightly edited, and off the cuff as it came out of my head. Take a peek and let me know what you think. 

She flinched.

Every time a drop of water hit the sink she flinched again.

She was in no immediate danger and yet, her nerves were
strained nearly to their breaking point. The last customer had left her diner,
and now the only noise in the place was from the incessant leak dripping from
her kitchen sink. She was supposed to get it fixed last week, but…

Money being what it was, she’d be lucky to fix it this
month. The town was damn near empty at this point, the only residents left
could hardly afford to eat out. She should just take the money. It’s not like
she had anything holding her to this town, or this diner for that matter. She
chewed her lip. Her grandfather would roll over in his grave at the thought of
her giving up the family business. But she’d never had any attachment to the
place other than him. And now he was gone.  Aubrey stared out into the dark night, not
seeing the empty downtown streets, but rather her beleaguered reflection. What
was she doing sticking around?

She asked herself that a lot, but every time she went to
pick up the phone, something stopped her. Not yet, it said. Just a little while
longer, it whispered. Why she listened to that voice she couldn’t say. It
whispered to her to get ready. For what? She didn’t know, but her body was
tense, and a sense that all around her would change dragged her stomach down to
her toes. Wheeling the mop bucket over to the far corner of the diner, she
sighed. Best to get on with it. Pride wouldn’t let her leave for the evening
without cleaning the place. Her diner may be small, and the leather seats in
the weathered booths cracking in some places, but no one could call it dirty.

Plip.

Plip.

Aubrey’s hands shook as she gripped the mop and dragged it
out of the water, plopping it onto the floor. Why was she so nervous? She
started humming, hoping to block out the sound of the drip. Her shoulders ached
as she backed her way through the diner, stroking the mop across the worn
linoleum.

Plip.

Plip.

The sound of the water dripping still intruded. She started
singing an old song her grandfather worked to when he’d manned the kitchen in
the back. The rhythm of it soothed her, not so much that her stomach had stopped
fluttering, though. A crack of thunder sounded directly outside her diner and
she gasped, standing erect. Lightning flashed and a shadow of a man hovered
just outside the diner window.

She screamed, dropping the mop. Shit, shit, shit. She stood
in place staring at the window, but the shadow was gone. Because…yeah, it was
just a shadow. Still, her heart raced and her breaths came out in short
panicked bursts.

“Aubrey.”

Aubrey spun on her heels, screaming. There was a man standing
less than five feet away from where she stood. He didn’t make any moves, just
cocked his head and watched her. The white dress shirt her wore was open to the
top of his chest, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His fitted slacks, made him
look so out of place in her dinky diner. She sucked in a breath and moved a
step back.

He held out his hand. “Are you ready?”

Oh God, was she dead? She was dead. The man was gorgeous, chiseled
cheekbones, full lips and almond shaped eyes that glowed hazel. His jet black
hair was long in the front, tousled over his forehead. Him being an angel would
explain a lot. She slapped her hand against her chest, frowning as her
heartbeat thundered underneath.

“I’m not dead,” she whispered, more to herself than him.

He frowned, lowering his hand. “You don’t…no one
prepared you?” He cursed and turned his back to her.

She eased back towards the backdoor, taking small silent
steps while his back was turned. If she could just…

He whipped around, one if his eyes now glowing green. “I’m
sorry, but I don’t have the luxury of time.”

His hands moved in a circular pattern until lights danced
around his wrists. Mesmerized, she stopped moving.

“Again, I’m very sorry about this,” he whispered, just
before everything around her went dark.