Writing Prompt

Laurel’s pale, thin fingers smooth a crisp page in her latest daily planner, the bold black ink words written inside months before make her mouth twist at the sight. Restock night, her written words read, scrawled in her neat handwriting. Restock night occurred every Saturday at exactly midnight when the streets were vacant enough for her to emerge and haunt them. Most of her neighbors were wise, ...

𝑺𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅...

*𝑨𝒉𝒆𝒎*(𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍)

𝑺𝒐 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒛

.𝟏 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 💙 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 ...

Once upon a time, in a quaint little town, there lived a man named Oliver. He was known for his meticulous organization and an obsession with cleanliness. Oliver had a condition known as Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD), which meant that everything in his life had to be perfectly in place.

From the moment he woke up in the morning, Oliver's day revolved around maintaining a spotless environmen...

“Iyin!”

“What!?”

“Clean your room before you leave please!”

“Fine!”

He proceeded to pick up a shirt off the floor then collapse on his bed saying he’s done.

Veranda walks past this sorry scene with a sneer. Her room is a mess as well but at she can walk in it.

“Is everyone ready?”

“Yeah!”

“Can someone get Kuro?”

“I will, mom.” Vera knocked on Kuro’s door. She knew he would never care, but their...

I look around the room, appalled by the mess. But I was expecting something like that—maybenot to that extent—something horrible. People don’t call me unless they are really needed some professional help.

Here, the problems is obvious to me. There is jo more floor. Everything they own is covering the flooor, and the furniture but the real problem right now is the ground.

If you can’t step into a ...

“How many times do I have to tell her…”

Whenever my sister visits, I end up muttering to myself exasperated. The tiniest room in the house is the largest battleground. I don’t know why she insists on her antics but visiting the bathroom shouldn’t be as frustrating as she makes it.

The room is small. While sitting on the toilet, a person can reach across the room in any direction and press th...

Everything in place that's how it's supposed to be. Everything neatly packed and organized. That's how it should be.

Until was till you came along.

You would always make a mess and do things without a plan. Always running around ruining my delicate plan.

If it weren't for me you would have been cut in three, from all the dangers that you bring.

"Why do you stay you" asked me one day.

Why did I st...

Just another ordinary day, or so I had told my self during my meditation this morning. But that’s why one meditates isn’t it, to prepare your mind for the absurdities of the day.

The insanity began as soon as I walked in the office and saw my door cracked open. That might not seem odd to you, but I sat down the entire cleaning staff for a team meeting on the importance of my door being clo...

Angela Barkley. That was her signature— round and legible, print not cursive, always black ink. It adorned every legal document of Stone House Lane’s extensive Home-Owners’ Association, which she as President ruled with an iron fist. No one disputed Angela’s authority— and those who did regretted it in court. With a swish of her ash blonde balayage and a catty flutter of her false eyelashes, the P...

This goes here and that goes there and the little things can’t be everywhere.

One and two, three and four, step by step into the drawer.

Bit by bit, piece by piece, fold and tuck the freshly cleaned sheets.

Clean and dust and sweep and mop, this goes bottom, this goes top.

Day by day, again and again, swiping away all the stains.

Routine by routine, it must be done, this are my mornings...