June 22: Flash Fiction Challenge – Dumbfounded

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June 22, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that involves a dream. This action could have happened while awake, such as daydreaming, or make up a dream when asleep. Go where the prompt leads as it could be a nightmare or just fond memories or ambition.

I was watching TV when a boy from the school over the road set himself up on my veranda. He thought my place was his study centre. I told him to leave. I thought of child protection and all that involved.

Then there was a noise in my kitchen. Around my kitchen table eating my food were a heap of Year 9 students. I rang the school and the Principal came over. He thought it a great joke. He shuffled them out explaining in the kindest terms it was time to go back to class.

I woke up! Dumbfounded!

Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2017/06/23/june-22-flash-fiction-challenge-2/

 

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Thursday photo prompt – The tunnel – #writephoto – Stepping Forward

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They wanted to believe there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

The nagging feeling of a few steps more and they would be out, free to roam, free to be themselves no longer looking over their shoulders, no longer listening to the tell-tale steps of the pursuer.

The temptation was to think it was just a matter of time being lost in the labyrinth making up the story of their lives.

Always there had been the sensation that they were not alone, that not far behind lurked the pursuer, intent on taking away from them the one thing they both craved.

Their nemesis left clues as to his presence. The odd note, the gesture he knew where they were, it was more than a matter of time they felt.

When they did see the light they also saw the outline of him. How could he be ahead of them they both wondered? Had they slipped up somewhere?

But time was against them. The dank dark atmosphere of the tunnel was taking its toll. They were tiring of the chase. It was time they stood firm in their resolve and made the commitment to end the foolishness of the pursuit.

Hand in hand they approached the entrance, the closer they came to the light the more the apparition of their pursuer faded.

Standing in the light they breathed in the air, the new life it presented, fingers locked they stepped into the light, unafraid, determined.

 

Written for: https://scvincent.com/2017/06/22/thursday-photo-prompt-the-tunnel-writephoto/

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Tale Weaver #125: of the writerly persuasion 22.06.17 – Anyone Can Be A Writer

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This week’s task: Weave a tale about a writer (real or fictional).

Carstairs awoke in a cold sweat. In his mind, the word epiphany bounced from side to side.

“I know what I’m to do with my life,” he heard himself say.

He lay there a moment allowing the thoughts to congeal in his brain.

“I’m going to be a writer,” he said, a smile wide on his face.

He thought to himself it couldn’t be all that hard. The newsagent had shelves stacked with books. Obviously, people wrote them, and it had to be something anyone could do.

He’d read a book once, one his teacher said he had to read in order to pass his exam. He found it boring, hard work and poorly written. He tried to remember the title, something about Pride and something else by an English woman who lived as a single woman her whole life. If that was literature, he was in with a real show.

The only piece of advice he remembered about writing was to write about what you knew.

Carstairs knew a lot.

The story of his life would be interesting and engaging he knew. After all, he’d lived a full life.

He thought of the people in his life. Miss Hudders, his primary school teacher with the heaving bosom which frightened more boys than excited them.

Mr Archers his high school Maths teacher who had an unfortunate stammer and took an eternity to explain most complex Maths problems.

Tom Hall the University lecturer who spent far too much time on the sordid details of each novel they were supposed to read.

And his working life, after failing at most things Carstairs had found success in the kitchen of the local meals on wheels as the chief bottle washer.

He could see it all before him, the pages of his life, the fame and fortune this would bring him.

That morning he set off on his writing journey. He wrote non-stop for a week. He detailed his life in minute detail from the day of his birth.

Within ten days he had written fifty thousand words and believing it was close to a masterpiece he decided to seek the opinion of a publisher.

Now Carstairs knew very little about writing, and so much of what he wrote was from his heart, written in all sincerity, the true tale of his life.

What Carstairs didn’t count on was the cruelty of publishers. He received feedback, thanking him for sending in his manuscript but the publisher was blunt and said it was poorly written and maybe Carstairs could spend his time more wisely attending writing classes.

“One bad review,” thought Carstairs, “what does this guy know anyway?”

So, he forged ahead, writing about his marriages, all three of them, each ending acrimoniously and in his opinion never his fault. He was misunderstood he argued.

A week later he tried again this time to another publisher. Same response. He tried again and again. By the fifth publisher words like, infantile, immature, ignorant and lacking in an understanding of modern grammar began to cast doubts in his mind.

Then he read an article on self- publishing!

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/06/22/tale-weaver-125-of-the-writerly-persuasion-22-06-17/

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Writespiration #121 52 Weeks in 52 Words Week 25 – Death

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This week’s write:

Your story from the point of view of Death personified.

I’m so misunderstood. I want to be a beginning not an end. I feel so depressed. The old souls welcome me, feed up with living if you call incapacity living. One old soul cursed me, that was exciting. Mostly it’s the humdrum of death, same shit different day, as you might say. (52 words)

 

Written for: http://sachablack.co.uk/2017/06/21/writespiration-121-52-weeks-in-52-words-week-25/

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FFfAW Challenge-Week of June 20, 2017 – We Might Be Lucky

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Image: Footy and Foodie.

Dad sat glumly at breakfast. It was going to be another stinker of a day. Hot days were hard work on the farm. A year ago, on a day not unlike the one looming there had been a bushfire that wiped out a lot of the stock and ruined kilometres of fence line.

It had taken dad much of the year to rebuild the fences and re-stock the paddocks.

We did all we could to help, but we were kids and dad took much of the burden of work on his own shoulders.

Sunday’s, he slept in. He figured if he needed anything on Sundays it was pointless as the shops were closed, so he stayed in bed, ate a late breakfast and spent time with us kids. We liked Sundays.

Today he looked towards the east and wondered if we’d get away with it. There was no smoke on the horizon.

“We might be lucky,” he announced grabbing his hat and heading out the door.

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/06/19/fffaw-challenge-week-of-june-20-2017/

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Twittering Tale #35 – 20 June 2017

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Image: Photo by Tyler Hendy at pexels.com

She said she’d meet me at the last table.
I waited.
It grew late.
She didn’t show.
Humiliation takes on a sad look.
So many having fun.
Not me. (139 characters)

Written for: https://katmyrman.com/2017/06/20/twittering-tales-35-20-june-2017/

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Photo Challenge #170 – The Distant Boy

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Image: – Axcy @ Deviantart

The distant boy floated

His thoughts on the girl

The one who nourished his waking moments

A girl precious beyond words

With whom he longed to spend his eternity.

Like a vagabond, of no fixed address

He felt himself descend

Towards the nothing, he knew he was.

She watched as he drew close to rock bottom

Reaching out her hand

She caressed him

Gave him comfort

Her strength keeping him upright.

Looking into her eyes

He saw the love he needed

To be him, her man, her love.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/06/20/photo-challenge-170/

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