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This post is completely unrelated from the 30 day blog challenge that I am doing. Tonight I attended a Writer’s Group at the public library. I didn’t even know about this group until last week, so today was my first time ever. It was such a wonderful experience. I was able to share some of my writing and get some feedback. We did a short writing exercise and it was fun to just spend some time writing. I just thought I would share my little exercise as I haven’t really published anything here that is creative writing. We were given three questions to answer in our writing exercise and here is what came of my story:

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                The pot was boiling over when Peter walked in the front door. He could hear it from the front foyer and it continued to get louder as he followed the noise.

“Damnit, Joanne!” he muttered as he saw the mess in the kitchen. “Can’t you remember to even turn off the stove before you leave the room?”

This had become a regular occurrence and he was starting to realize that she probably just did not care anymore. As he turned the knob on the stove to the off position, he was able to hear the murmur of voices in the living room. He knew what the sound was. Joanne and her soap operas. Every day this week, she had started supper and then gotten caught up in the constant recurring drama of the shows on the telly. He started towards the living room preparing himself for the argument that was bound to happen.

Before he can even open his mouth, Joanne calls out to him, “Peter, I don’t even want to hear it. You can make your own damn supper tonight! I know what you’ve been up to.”

The nerve of her, insinuating that he makes his own supper! If she could just get her act together, this wouldn’t have happened. They could have sat for a nice meal like they used to. Unable to contain his anger, he storms back the way he came and out the front door. He knew right away where he would go.

As he rounded the last corner of his walk and saw the bright lights shining from the kitchen window, he knew that there would be supper on the table for him here. He didn’t bother to knock as he made his way inside.

“Peter, is that you?” he heard Sally call out.

He followed the sound of her voice to the kitchen, where she was standing with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Hey darling, it’s me. I don’t suppose you have something delicious cooked for supper that I could join you for?”

Instead of answering, Sally pushed a plate with some papers toward him. ‘Petition for Divorce’ is written on the top.

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So I hope you enjoy that little tidbit of my personal creative writing. I have some homework to do before the next writer’s group and I can’t wait. Toodles!

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