july 3rd daily - use the word generated to write a story about a dystopian world where everyone fears the word that you generated.

word: pair of knitting needles

“AHHHHH!!” All the students screamed as I walked in, holding a pair of knitting needles to finish crocheting my hat. They looked as if they had seen a ghost. I didn't blame them. This happened in every school I went to. This school was the most peculiar because of all the closed off windows and dark rooms with no lights. My bright red eyes were probably shining vibrantly through all the dimness, and my pale skin making my look like a ghastly figure.
However, the students, who were now hiding behind the desks, which were a dark shade of mahogany, weren't looking at my eyes or my skin, in fact they were staring at the object I held in my hands.
“What's going on?” I asked, looking around. “And where's the teacher?”
One brave-looking kid with black curly hair stepped up, stuttering. “Sh-she got f-fired y-yesterday. W-we've been our own since.”
“Why'd she get fired?” I replied, not really paying attention because I had to work on the hat. I noticed that everyone seemed to shrink back once I brought my knitting needles up to my pale face to be particularly precise.
Another student, a girl with blonde hair, spoke up to my question which I had already forgotten I'd asked. “The teacher, Ms. Briggs, brought…n-needles…to school.” Everyone shuddered at the word needles.
I was confused. "What's wrong with them? Okay…I get that they can be sharp and pierce your skin…but why is everyone here afraid of needles?“
”It's not that type of needles,“ the girl told me, ”it's those.“ She pointed to the pair of knitting needles I had in my hand.
”W-what-“ I sputtered, ”These aren't even sharp!“
”Anyways, you should leave since it's illegal to bring those into town.“ She said with a glance at the needles. ”Everyone in town is afraid of them. Even the mayor. You seem pretty nice so I don't think you're going to threaten us.“
My mind was filled with confusion about how ridiculous this was. ”Fine,“ I said, turning away, ”I never wanted to go here anyway.“
I tossed the hat, which I had finished now, back into the classroom. ”Maybe this will be a memory for you guys in case you get over your silly fear."

Now that I look back on the moment, I realize I never asked why they were scared of knitting needles. But I've moved away to a country far away, and the people who inhabit the place are even less normal. I guess every place has strange and unusual things about it.

total words: 427

july 4th daily - take a piece of your writing and transform it into the second perspective.

using a cringy old story i wrote lol

No princess has ever escaped from the palace before. Every one that tried was found by the guards, who were rumored to be very fierce and strong. The princess would be laughed at by the town people and the rulers would receive embarrassment. The ruler would most likely have their rank removed if the judges found out about it. That is why no one dared to escape.

You looked in the new “Perfect” mirror, the duplicate of yourself smirking at you. You had named her Perfeen, and her personality was the exact opposite of you. She’s happy when you're sad, and she’s able to get along with just about everyone. When you were 12 your friends absolutely loved her, but now they are not allowed to visit the palace any more.

“Mirror,” You told the glistening image, who was now decorating herself with a tube of Cake Paste, “Do you think I should pass through it?” She looked at you in confusion.

“You know what I'm talking about, Perfeen.” You said.

Perfeen put her arms to the side and shrugged.

You sighed. “Should I pass through The Black?”

Perfeen looked at you in astonishment as if saying, No, no.

She took the Cake Paste and studied herself in the mirror. Well, it looked like she was doing that. Then you began to see words being written on the surface of the mirror. They were in sloppy handwriting, and in pink, the same color as Perfeen’s Cake Paste. They were clear, big words. You. Can. Not.

“But why?” you asked, “I know the rule prevents that but I want to leave this place.”

Perfeen stared at you and you saw the words vanish. New words took its place.

YOU. CAN. NOT.

“What do you mean I cannot?” you said, “I can just easily slip past the guards.”

Perfeen shook her head as if she was saying, It’s not that easy.

“What? I don’t understand what you mean, Perfeen.” You told her. “With my wonderful magic power, I could simply wish for what I wanted.”

YOU. CANNOT.

And that’s the last thing you saw before the images in the mirror started fading away.

total words: 361

july 4th daily - edit one of your old works.

unfinished story that is more than a year old

original:
“I’m here.” I spoke into the watch on my wrist, “At the haunted palace. Or castle. Whatever you call it. It looks more like a castle. It’s covered with a layer of fog.”
I looked up. Behind the gate, I could make out a small figure. Was it a statue?
“Vivian!” A voice barked from my watch. “Are you at the gate yet?”
“Yes,” I said. “I just told you.”
He spoke again, but his voice was muffled, and I couldn’t hear him well. The watch was malfunctioning again.
“Stupid watch.” I muttered.
I was sent on a journey to retrieve a special jewel from the Castle of Daunting, a haunted castle that had a ton of rumors spreading about it.
Some people would make up their own stories about the castle, about heroes that died while trying to rescue the princess that lived in it, or about the princess herself. Some said she was like Sleeping Beauty, sleeping inside the castle while thorns or something else sharp and protective kept her safe. Nothing made sense about those stories. Where was the queen and king? The servants? The cook that was pulling that little boy’s hair in the kitchen before they both fell asleep?
An old woman once told everyone who wanted to listen that whoever could save the princess who supposedly “slept” in the castle would gain riches and receive whatever they wanted, or even marry the princess. Of course, the people who believed what the old woman said and actually followed her directions didn’t make it out alive.
And what about me? I didn’t believe a word anyone said. Just ridiculous stories that could make people think they’d be a hero in this boring town for once.
I was only here because I was working for a secret organization that promised to give me proof if I were to do what they said. Proof? What proof? Proof that I was strong enough. Proof that if I’d been in a battle right now, I’d win. Proof to other people that I deserve fame, that I deserve glory. Some proof that would set my life right, for once.
I’d dropped out of school, thinking all the years of studying wasn’t worth it. So here I was, in full armor, staring at the gray castle that supposedly used to be decorated with diamonds and paintings, and filled with cake and people and kings and queens and happiness.
“Hey, Vivian! Can you hear me?” The voice yelled again from the watch, as it was working again, “Listen up here! If you can’t get that jewel I’ll get someone stronger to-”
The watch was out of battery. I sighed in relief, since I didn’t want to hear that old man’s shouting and screaming here and there.

edited version:
“I’m here.” I spoke into the watch on my wrist, “The haunted palace you spoke of. It looks like a castle. It's covered with a layer of fog.”
Looking up, I could make out a small figure behind the gate. A woman… or was it a statue?
“Vivian!” A voice snarled from my watch. “Are you at the gate yet?”
“Yes,” I replied irritably.
He spoke again, but his voice was muffled, and I couldn’t hear him well. The watch was malfunctioning again.
“Stupid watch.” I muttered.
I was sent on a journey to retrieve a special jewel from the Palace of Daunting, a haunted palace with rumors surrounding it that spread all across the country.
Some people would make up their own stories about the castle, about heroes that died while trying to rescue the princess that lived in it, or about the princess herself. Some said she was like Sleeping Beauty, caught in a deep sleep while huge, sharp thorns protected her from anything in the outside world. Nothing made sense about those stories. Where was the queen and king? The servants? The cook that was pulling that little boy’s hair in the kitchen before they both fell asleep?
An old woman once told everyone who wanted to listen that whoever could save the princess who supposedly “slept” in the castle would gain riches and receive whatever they wanted, or even marry the princess. People who followed the woman's directions mysteriously disappeared, which just made everything yet more credible.
And what about me? I didn’t believe a word anyone said. Just ridiculous stories that could make people think they’d be a hero in this boring town for once.
I was only here because I was working for a secret organization that promised to give me proof if I were to do what they said. Proof? What proof? Proof that I was strong enough. That if I’d been in a battle right now, I’d win. Proof to other people that I deserve fame, that I deserve glory. It would set my life right.
Supposedly.
I’d dropped out of school, thinking all the years of studying wasn’t worth it. So here I was, in full armor, staring at the gray castle that supposedly used to be decorated with diamonds and paintings, and filled with cake and people and kings and queens and happiness.
I knew it was nonsensical to do this, especially because I didn't believe in any of the stories I heard everywhere, but this was my only chance to prove I was worth something. Just witless, unreasonable stories, I thought Those people who said I wasn't going to make it out alive. Well I am. And I am going to prove none of this is true.
“Hey, Vivian! Can you hear me?” The voice yelled again from the watch, which at that moment started working again, “Listen up here! If you can’t get that jewel I’ll get someone stronger to-”
Then the watched turned off. Out of battery.

total words (excluding the original): 500