So when the world turned into a banana, a giant skiddy banana, we decided to try & give people a spot of structure amidst the uncertainty via the medium of daily creative prompts. Well, we've had some absolute corkers thus far. It's been a complete joy. We'll be publishing the highlights every week, and once this is all over we'll dish out £100 worth of La Biblioteka vouchers to The Top Contributions. They're our favourite indie bookshop in all of Kuriousdom & they need our support.

If you'd like to get involved, follow us on Twitter or Instagram. In the meantime, here are this week's faves. Get a jammy dodger, dunk & dive in (to the stories, not the tea).

The broken heart tried to tell her that it was healing itself as it went on beating day to day.  She felt better, sometimes almost normal. Then that date appeared on the calendar. "Hello, old friend," the broken heart said. And there it was, just as she remembered. @TheFailureBaler

And there it was, just as she remembered, a camaraderie huddled around the fire, except now with solemn tones & grasping at the spaces between nightmares. That was how they remembered, with the scars & battles, the lost souls, all because they had stayed and fought.@sgmellorwriter

She gathered the three carefully stored, yet worn, woven shopping bags under her arms.  He handed her a pair of surgical gloves and a face mask.  She breathed in deeply as she fitted the protective equipment.  Fear consumed the air.  Is it time? He asked, I think so, she said.@NatashaCDavies

Another cup of tea had gone cold. There were only so many cups of tea a man could stand, but he'd accepted the offer in order to stay. Jack's face looked like he was sleeping, dreaming peacefully. The nurse appeared at the door. 'Is it time?' he asked. 'I think so', she said. @TheFailureBaler

There wasn’t much to do suddenly. At least there was lots to do, just not the sort of things they wanted to do.  It was no longer a matter of going to work Monday to Friday and do what they liked at the weekends, maybe sometimes fit in the jobs and chores they knew they should do.  Now there was nothing else to do except those jobs and chores, unless they wanted to become coach potatoes and overdose on box sets.

Jack was no coach potato and neither was Georgia.  In ordinary circumstances they prided themselves on keeping fit despite their taxing jobs in the City and precious little free time. It had been the norm to spend most weekends out of doors, walking, cycling, running.  All that had stopped now.  They had a tiny garden but hadn’t spent any time in it before this happened. But now, stir crazy after their allotted one hour of outdoor exercise a day, they had begun to look differently at their tiny outdoor space, or “courtyard garden” as the Estate Agent had described it.

Whose idea was it to plant beans? Georgia said many years later when she finally felt able to tell the story, that it was hers.  To be honest it didn’t matter, it was their combined project, a little vegetable plot.  Up came their first bean, tiny at first but then, fed with left over veg water from the kitchen, it thrived, growing visibly every day until after a week it was approximately a foot tall.  The lockdown lasted thirteen weeks but the plant was not thirteen feet tall at the end of it, it was a hundred feet tall and still growing.  Not only that, it had thick fleshy branches which were taking over the neighbourhood gardens.  Every day Jack and Georgia marvelled at it, reaching impossibly high in the air, the top lost in the clouds.  When the announcement came that the lockdown was not ending, and that they were to be incarcerated for the foreseeable future, Jack looked at Georgia.

“Is it time?” he asked.

“I think so” she said.

Philippa Howell

The Earth called veto years ago.

She vetoed the hand-poured oil into her cup,                                                                     she vetoed the knife-spread tar into her lungs,                                                                 she vetoed the blunt-cut of trees from her hair

Earth called veto years ago

She vetoed the breakout of overpopulated spots on her back                                               She vetoed the cracks chipped in her door to the Jungle                                                 She vetoed the holes poked in her aura by dirty fingers

She vetoed war, crime & that time you put plastic in the black bin.                               She vetoed patriarchy, government non-accountability & all the isms from sex, race, class to terror.                                                                                                                             She vetoed the mirror, when you criticised some of her best work. She vetoed cruelty, bloody-milk in tea & 6-pack holders in her sea.

Earth called Veto years again                                                                                                     And the majority didn't listen.

Earth said hold me like the night sky holds the Moon,                                                   and I'll give you roses                                                                                                                   Earth said respect me like your dad's garden lemon tree,                                                     and I'll give you seeds                                                                                                                   Earth said protect me like the plants you pot in pretty beds                                               and I'll stroke your head                                                                                                            

Earth called Veto, but this time,                                                                                                 she called it Covid-19.    

@handlewithcare_blog                                                                                                                                                                                                    

It was just something about the way she smiled. I stepped back from the car. The man driving said ‘Do you want an eclair?’ The lady pulled my t-shirt and I shouted ‘Fire!’ because that is the best thing to shout if you need help. @LauraWakeWriter