Writing Prompt: Chocolate Chips


“Chocolate Chips”

What scene does this prompt in you?

Write your “prompt reply” in 200 words or less and post it in the comments below!





Example prompt & quick note by SP staff, Nova McBee

With a group of super talented Teen writers, we set a timer for 10 minutes and just wrote whatever came to mind. I suggest you do this. Don’t think too hard about it, just jump into your creativity and let your words flow no matter how crafty they are. You will be surprised what comes out.

Here is what came out for me in those ten minutes:

Nova’s Prompt:

Add more chocolate—that is what my mom said—that chocolate fixes most mistakes—and I screwed up big time. I hope this proves to Dina how much I care. I mean, she got me—ME—a boy who spends all of his time in the woods or on the court inside a Martha Stewart type kitchen! Granted, I’m still dirty, just with white stains instead. And, I’ll admit the smells are significantly better. Melted butter, sugar, vanilla. Mmm. I just hope these cookies turn out delicious enough for her to talk to me again.

The dough stiffens as I add more flour. For some reason I get caught in a monotonous stirring cycle as I stare at the broken eggshells on the counter. Sentimental moments don’t happen too often to me but I do have them. Mostly in the woods when everything is quiet and an animal walks by without fear or with her young, or a sunrise coming over the mountains. But here, in the kitchen, it dawns on me that the shell of an egg is designed to protect life—LIFE for crying out loud—and yet it can be broken so easily. That is exactly what I did to Dina’s heart. She let me hold it—a fragile shell protecting a great treasure—and all it took was one drop. I just hope I can put all the pieces back together.

Photo by Pam Menegakis on Unsplash


4 thoughts on “Writing Prompt: Chocolate Chips

  1. Triple chocolate chip brownies always taste best when straight out of the oven. Too bad I don’t have that option. This particular batch had long since cooled off when I arrived. I snacked on the fudge treat as I inspected the house. There wasn’t anything worth stealing really other than these brownies of course. The only thing that made breaking and entering worth it. I would’ve broken into one of the more rich houses had they not updated their security system last week to something I wasn’t familiar with. But given that this was New York, there was always another easier target. Besides, poor people make better food anyways in my opinion. Whoever owned this place seemed like a hermit. A layer of dust covered everything; I’m surprised they made brownies.


  2. I lie awake in the dimly lit room, listening to the clamoring crowd outside. I sigh, taking in a breath of dirty, smoky air. I stare up at the tiny sliver of light peeking through the cracked brick. Tiny particles of dust gleaming in the golden light. I suppose I’m better off than most of the prisoners here. At least I get food, and water, and a little sun. But sometimes, I can’t help but think of home, of all that I have missed in these past years. I miss mother’s cooking, Christmas time especially. I remember her singing in the kitchen, cooking all day, creating these elaborate spreads, and how she would get mad at me when I’d only eat the chocolate chip cookies she’d made for dessert… I miss that, the warm comfort of home.

    Liked by 1 person

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