"Take my hand."

Is it time for another writing prompt?

I’m sure you know the rules by now, but here’s a reminder.

  • Use the phrase below as a starting point for your piece.
  • Stay within the word limit – there are constraints to make you focus!
  • Feel free to post your response on your own blog, website, or any other place you share work but please link back to this post if you do so.
  • Please keep your response Work Place Friendly – no swearing, no sex, no erotica, no racism, no nasty. I’m sure you get the idea.

Your phrase, your starting point:

Take my hand.

“Take my hand.”

Take my hand. That’s your starting point, that’s your focus. No more than 250 words please.

Thank you,


Views – 1695

If you enjoyed it, others will too.
Facebook Twitter Email Pinterest Stumbleupon Tumblr Linkedin Digg

5 thoughts on “"Take my hand."

  1. Catrina

    “Take my hand and we’ll get out of here. It won’t be easy, but if we don’t let go, we’ll be safe. Together we are always stronger and together we’ll get out of here.” His hand extended over the gap to his little brother.

    Timidly the boy looked up and reached for him. At first reach, he missed. At second reach their finger tips touched, and in the third his brother had him firmly. He pulled him up to the first level of safety and together, they found their way out of the gaping hole that was left of their home.

    1. Sarah

      Nice! I like the repeated reaching out, really lends a sense of urgency, of being possibly trapped.
      I suspect it’s an American/UK thing but that last sentence I’d redo as: they found their way out of the gaping hole that was all that was left of their home. Or, the gaping hole surrounded by the remains of their home.
      Something like that.

      1. Catrina

        It’s funny, when I do these I rarely, if ever really put thought into how. I start with the prompt and see where my mind leads me. 🙂 I like your suggestion for the change as well.

  2. Sarah

    Here’s mine! Exactly 250 words.

    “Take my hand!” He screamed into the thunder of raging water. His arm strained until the joints threatened to break and still he couldn’t reach her. Fingertips tantalisingly brushing the slippery rocks just a hairs breadth from where she clung to the stones. Her feet slid as they scrabbled to find a toe hold, the tiniest ridge would do. But the rock was sheer and slick.
    “STRETCH!” Becoming more frantic he thrust himself further over the edge.
    She shook her head, face twisted in pain and realisation.
    The stone under him began to slip, he pulled back, just a little.
    Heart pounding and arms tearing from their sockets, she tried. She took all her weight on one hand, fingers going numb, and she lunged upwards with the other. She touched his fingers, fell away. She swung wildly, tried to regain her hold.
    “AGAIN!” He cried, easing himself just a few more inches forwards, digging his feet into the earth for an anchor and trusting he wouldn’t fall.
    The toe of one boot found the slightest of ridges and she pushed, knowing it would either save her or send her to her death. She balanced with one hand, pushed with one leg and reached for him.
    A warm hand wrapped round her wrist, took her weight and the next thing she felt was his other hand lacing fingers into her jacket to haul her back to safety.
    “Lilith.” He gasped as she fell onto the grass. “I thought we’d lost you.”

Comments are closed.