Writing Prompt

The footprints trailed out far past the door. It was a clear morning, and I could follow the trail to the treeline with my eyes, where it disappeared into the woods. The sun had just crested the nearby mountains, and I hadn’t been outside yet. My hand tightened on the door. I went back inside.

“Tab,” I knocked on her door, though it was wide open and I could see her asleep on her bed. She gro...

The alarm blares loudly forcing me out of my sleep. It’s 7 in the morning and the sun is warming my ever growing cold room in the dead of winter. Groaning, I stretch my arms over my head feeling tightness down my neck and back. Finally getting up, I can smell the strong, soothing aroma of coffee brewing in the kitchen.

Walking down the cold, hard wooden steps, towards the kitchen, I pour a cup o...

I quickly slamed the door. It was probably hard enough to break the hinges off. I ran around the house, shutting all windows and closing all curtains. The house was dark now that the power went out. My back slowly slid down the cabinets in the kitchen, soon landing on the floor. Thoughts came like a tsunami. Who made those footprints? A criminal? A theif? We’re they here to kill me? All questions ...

You quickly slam the door shut in fright, not knowing what to do. Who the hell was at your house durring the night, or maybe in the morning. The footprints were fresh, or so you thought. The only way to figure out was to open that door again. Slowly but surely you crept open that door, yet the foot prints were definitely fresh. So again who the heck was at your door this morning. This whole stupid...

I stood in the doorway, my breath fogging in the icy air, staring at the trail of footprints in the fresh snow. They started from inside my house—right at the threshold where I now stood—and led outward, disappearing into the pale morning light. The snow had stopped falling just minutes ago, and the layer was pristine except for the steps. Which meant whoever—or whatever—had made them was here onl...

I was ran around my house, shoving food down my throat and throwing things in my bag. I was running late as usual and I needed to leave right this instant or I’d get fired.

I opened my front door and noticed that there was fresh snow on the ground, I smiled at the thought of winter when something strange caught me eye, there were footprints on the snow and they were leading up to my house...

“Footprints I have not heard “Footprints, “ and I have learned to hear everything. I have had to for survival. Maybe it was just a hunter or a hiker. These woods are beautiful, but I am so far away from anything or anyone, which was purposely done to protect me. Has he found me? Please, don’t let it be. There is only one person I need to find me, and he would knock, not creep around. Was he inside...

John’s family was a single parent and lived deep within the mountain. Their father died during he was hunting a bear. One day John accidentally broken his mother’s cup, she was so irritated that she ordered him to stay outside in the snow for 1 hour. Once John wore his jacket, closed the door, he got out and transferred a chair near the door and decide to sleep on it to kill time. Before that, he ...

It’s been several months since I last saw anyone. I barely spoke to the guide when he brought me out here. The last meaningful conversation was one year ago. My punishment is self-inflicted, but well deserved.

The snowprints lead to into the trees, unraveling the carefully cultivated layer I’ve made for myself. The anger returns, the fear. I briefly consider hiding inside, but I’ve never been a ...

I open the front door to see a layer of fresh snow, with footprints leading out of my house. It was strange to see them as its been a month no body visited the house. I took a step back closed the door and went to my bedroom I search of my camera for investigation.

Opened the drawer full of gadgets. Found a Nikon digital camera and rushed out of the room and at the front door was a tripod stand c...