FRIDAY FICTION with RONOVAN WRITES Prompt Challenge #33-Favorite Food

Word Count is off! Let’s focus on the theme of the thing. Not many actually stick to the word count anyway. (SUGGESTED-No more than 500 if you want to try that.)

  • Using the prompt of ‘Favorite Food’, WRITE. Use your Favorite Food as inspiration for your fiction. Maybe it’s the title for it or maybe it appears in the story in some way? (REQUIRED)


23:59 EST (New York Time) Wednesday

“No really, what is your favorite food?”

“Really? You want to talk about that now? Right now?”?

“Sure, why not. You told me to show more interested in my fellows, so I’m trying to be interested.”


“I want to know more about you, that’s all.”

Double snort.

“Oh, come on. It’s a simple question.”

“I didn’t tell you to be more interested NOW!”

“You didn’t specify a time really.”

“Well…. NOW is not the time.”

“Why not? We’re here, nothing else to do, just hanging around.”

“Just. Hanging. Around?”

“What else would you call this?”

“I woulda called it a vacation if I didn’t have to listen to you natter on.”

“There is no need to insult. I was just trying to make conversation, show interest in your life. Be a friend.”

“With friends like you and all that.”

“If you are just going to insult me, I’ll leave.”



“Go ahead.”

“Ah… well, I really can’t you know.”



“I know! I don’t need to hear about it.”

“Some friend you are.”

“I didn’t ask you to be my friend. In fact, I’d be perfectly happy if we’d never met.”

“That’s rude, but I guess everybody has their own opinion.”


“I thought you said this was a vacation?”

Strangling noise. “I said if you weren’t here it would be like a vacation!”

“Oh. Right. Well.”

“Yes, well. Now do you think you could shut up for a minute so I can have just a moment to myself?”

“If you insist.” Hurt silence.

“All right, all right, all right! Steamed clams and mashed potatoes!”


“My favorite foods.”

“That’s an odd thing to bring up in conversation.”


“I mean, if we’d been talking about food, sure, but just out of the blue?”

“You asked me my favorite food and now I’ve told you.”

“I did?”

Muttered rant.

“Okay, fine. Your favorite food. How nice. Thanks for sharing.”

“Just pull the god-fangled thing!”

Grinding lever, trapdoor slamming.

Snap. Snap.



Creaking of rope in the wind.


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