This prompt is always a lot of fun, especially if you make your place and holiday as random as possible. Plunk your finger down on a map, eeny-meeny-miny-mo the books on your bookshelves, or ask a friend to give you a holiday to write about. Your place could be anywhere, real or made up, and your holiday doesn’t have to be one everyone is familiar with either! If you try the prompt and you want to share, leave a link in the comments – I’d love to read yours!
For mine, I asked my boyfriend to give me a place and holiday to write about. My assignment was “NeoParis at Winter Solstice”. What I’ve got isn’t really a story yet, but I love the setting!
NeoParis at Winter Solstice would crunch between your teeth like sugar crystals, sending shivers up your spine. Everything would be white and silver and pastels, with bright golden globes of light, and pinpricks like stars. Spaceships would zoom by overhead, lights winking on and off like fireflies. Carousals would spin to trance music, and the Eiffel tower would rise like a golden fortress.
At Winter Solstice, everyone would come out to play – girls in black sequined flapper dresses and furs, boys in sleek white space suits with dapper shoes and tall hair with a lean to it, off-worlders in thick, patterned silk robes. They would dance in streets like a gigantic snow globe, sparkling snowflakes catching in their eyelashes and crunching under their dainty high heels. They would sip glasses of fizzy champagne and sample cakes shaped like all the worlds in all the galaxies. At midnight, hundreds of fireworks would explode in the sky, raining silver confetti down on the party-goers. Inhabitants of all the worlds of every universe would laugh and clap and embrace.
Afterwards, they would go home to their modern apartments, where they would sip cocoa in front of their colored electric fireplaces and dream of inter-stellar travel. Models would ask one another if they had eaten too much of Venus or Mars. Artists would wonder if they could ever capture the night with their paint programs. Designers would gossip about what the off-worlders had been wearing. The next morning, the snow would be pristine again, the spaceships would hang in an empty blue sky, and the world would be reborn.