In our quest to encourage creativity, we post a writing prompt every other Friday. Write a story with the prompt as the first line. Share your story below or on social media using the tag #FirstLineFriday. We can’t wait to see your stories!
The entire class was excused after the announcement that a storm would hit the city. Maurice ran inside, panicked, as the sky grew darker and the air grew more charged. “Momma!” he cried. His mom was already waiting for him and scooped him up, pulling him down into the basement. “It’s okay baby” she soothed. Maurice’s dad was already downstairs fiddling with the storm watcher radio. The lamp was on and blankets were piled everywhere. His favorite books and comics were stacked by the couch, next to Momma’s Southern novels. Outside the storm lashed at the house and the sky howled. Inside, the hearth was tended and warmth was shared.
The entire class was excused after the announcement that a storm would hit the city. The most unforgiving, torrential hurricane that our small coastal city would ever see was headed straight to us. The governor issued a state of emergency and encouraged all residents of our county to evacuate north. Panic echoed through the school hallways as I huffed my way through the masses of students and towards the nearest exit. I wormed my way out of the crowd to the glass door to find that rain was pounding against it and the exit was locked. Then the sirens came.