Flash Fiction Contest: TwitterFlash 9×11

 

This contest asks writers to pen a flash in 99 words composed in tweets: 11 tweets, 9 words each. Here’s my attempt (not an entry, just challenging myself for fun). First are the actual tweets, then, same story in 11 sentences (each with 9 words).

Psst…the tweets are interactive. Like, RT, or reply right from this post. Give it a go…

 

 

~~~

They find me. Crouched behind a rusted filing cabinet.

Gloved hands grip my bare arms, lifting me easily.

Shoving me into bright sun outside the hospital ward.

I run back, stumble, fall hard on the asphalt.

I reach for the door. I reach for him.

Balancing on my left palm, I almost make it.

With their heavy boots, they step on my fingers.

They laugh. I shout. They threaten. I kick. Dammit!

They grab me, make me promise to stay away.

Tell me he is sick and dangerous. They lie.

Then, again, so do I. They will die tonight.

~~~

 

 

Tweet some fiction, fellow tweeps. You could win $25. 🙂 Check it out here.

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Flash Fiction Contest: When I Grow Up

 

This contest asked writers to pen a flash in 100 words from the perspective (and voice) of your 6-yr-old self about…you guessed it…”When I Grow Up”. Here’s my attempt (not an entry, just challenging myself for fun).

 

Potentially Right

I hear them.

I’m in the hallway at school, cuddling Oscar, my purple owl stuffie. I’m petting his fur. Owls don’t have fur but I pretend it’s feathers. And that’s okay.

Their voices creep from under the door with number 17 on it. That’s my classroom. Words like “simple” and “incapable” hit me. I pull Oscar closer. They say I do not understand things.

I don’t like coloring circles in red and squares in blue to prove I know the difference. I know.

I know trapezoids, octagons, parallelograms… I want to find a new shape, maybe, when I grow up.

 

Selfless #Flash4Storms

 

Night is soft, quiet, speaking in layered moonlight.

Listen.

She whispers through trees, between branches.

Do not be afraid. You are not alone…

Beautiful darkness soothes us even though she knows it is her that we fear.

 

 

Written for the hurricane relief flash fiction challenge over at Lemon Shark. I’ve just raised the first $1. 🙂 See? That was easy. Hope you join in.

#Flash4Storms

#LemonSharkCharity

 

Circle of Death

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Each tweet, alone, is a micro with beginning, middle, and end. But, together, they make a little story.

I can collect tweets and create a post. Normally, they’d be from different dates, have different hashtags, and be inspired by different prompts.

For this one, though, I wrote a few silly tweets yesterday to use as an example for the ‘Embedding Tweets’ post on Lemon Shark. (And it was fun…) 🙂

 

Transformation

 

In her 99-word flash challenge this week, Charli said: “We are forged in the fires…[we] want to fully transform into something of beauty and purpose.” This reminded me very much of a tweet I wrote:

 

 

It’s not 99 words, though, it’s 19. Let’s see if I can expand this…

 

I struggle to find what’s real.

My mind feels like melted glass, being stretched and twisted into something I don’t recognize. If someone were to put my mind on display, it would be unsightly and puzzling. I hope it doesn’t turn out that way. If the glass can be manipulated as easily as pulling taffy, I think it can be made into something beautiful and useful. Perhaps a vase.

 

Okay, we’re at 69 words. Let’s just add 30 more…

 

I struggle to find what’s real.

I’m picking up sounds—buzzing and static. I think they’re trying to talk to me. Or maybe it’s me saying something. My words are lost in a haze of unrest.

My mind feels like melted glass, being stretched and twisted into something I don’t recognize. If someone were to put my mind on display, it would be unsightly and puzzling. I hope it doesn’t turn out that way. If the glass can be manipulated as easily as pulling taffy, I think it can be made into something beautiful and useful. Perhaps a vase.

 

Ah. And there you have it. My 99 for this week. 🙂

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

March 2, 2014 prompt: Slag – In 99 words (no more, no less) include slag (a glass-like by-product of smelting or refining ore) in a story. Slag is also used in making glass or can result from melting glass. It can be industrious or artistic.

 

Sarah Brentyn Reef 99 Words - sig

 

Book Club Vampire Hunters

 

Had a bit of fun stringing together the tweets from the first week of #Tweets4Blogs. Each participant’s lines are in green, click on their names to visit them. The prompt on Twitter was:

Write the first line of a story about a book club that hunts vampires on the weekends. Use the hashtag Have fun!

And here is the story…

 

70 yr old Ree held Of Mice & Men as she skewered the vamp with her walking stick. “It helps when they underestimate you.”

“You know,” said Lisa, “you’re right. They think you’re an easy target then… Wham! Splat! Poof! It’s fun.” Everyone turned to stare. “Well, I’m just saying.”

Lisa, please do not launch into your ‘She was alone. Scared. Confronted with an evil she had only read about in books. She put down Memoir of the First Slayer and opened the freezer, knowing now just how to kill that blood sucker in the porch….’ story again.”

“I’m not. It’s just,” she gestured to the pile of dust under Ree’s walking stick, “look at that! She nailed the little…”

“When you say you nailed the little f*****, are we still talking of Sunday’s bloodfest or completing 50 Shades for the club?” Geoff asked.

“Was that necessary?” Vanessa chided.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Norah covered her eyes with one hand and staked a vamp with the other.

“We’re not helping anyone by sparing vampires’ feelings,” Sarrah W. said, “Look, had Darcy spoken up about Wickham, he could have saved Lydia.”

“I don’t remember anyone asking you to chime in. We decided not to read Pride and Prejudice. Let it go.” Sue said.

“Oh, I see, I suppose Geoff’s ‘50 Shades of Shit’ is a more worthy read?” Georgia considered this a moment. “You know, that actually might be interesting.” She saw the looks of alarm and shrugged. “Better than the original.”

“Can we please get back to choosing more weapons for tonight?” Allie pleaded. “It’s only a few hours until sunrise.” She gazed at all the stakes lying across the grass—oak, mahogany, lots of pine.

Geoff crossed his arms and gestured to Allie. “Seems someone is not opposed to my choice of reading material.”

“Oh I don’t know,” said Allie as she selected a stake from the pile of assorted weaponry, “sometimes a banana is simply fruit.”

Irene tiptoed around a gravestone. “Friday night, at midnight, members of the book club stopped reading.”

“Geez!” Cynthia jumped. “Will you stop whispering to yourself, Irene? You startled the hell out of me!”

“Yeah, it is a bit creepy, you stalking your fellow book club members,” Hope added.

“Creepy?” Kate asked.

Ruth raised an eyebrow. “As opposed to, say, walking around in the dead of night staking blood-sucking vampires?”

“I suppose it could be considered creepy but it doesn’t seem that way to me. Not anymore.” Helen straightened her garlic necklace. “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a half decent book club be in search of vampires to hunt.”

“It only makes sense,” Eric agreed, “After all, books are a collection of paper made from wood pulp. The same wood used to make stakes. Used to vanquish the undead.”

“What he said,” Luccia grinned.

“So…um…” Charli adjusted the bloody wooden stake in her hand and asked Barbara, “Which book did you say we’re discussing this weekend?”

“Are we done with Eat, Pray, Love already? I keep losing track what with the hunting and all. And, to be honest,” Sacha said, “I haven’t found time to finish it.”

“Right. That reminds me.” J.D. threw Sacha her copy of Eat, Pray, Love and a garlic stake, “gives Eat, Pray, Love a whole new meaning, hey?!”

“We finished that last week. On to the Twilight series now,” Amber laughed. “Grab your UV lights, people, we have some Suckers to kill. That book might be on to something, maybe they DO sparkle.”

“I don’t think so,” Barbara rolled her eyes. “Let’s just hunt, okay?”

“I hunt for stories hidden in moonlight,” Katsyarina started singing, “I crave for answers even with a bite, a kiss’ll come with page of our love, I wrote what you read tonight!”

“Keep it down, Kat! You’ll give us away!” Loni hissed.

“Hey, at least she kills the damn things,” J.D. said, “What’s the rule? Okay…rules? Two things are unacceptable in the Yorkshire bookclub: eating next to a book and coming across a vampire and leaving it alive. She does neither so let her alone.”

Katsyarina smiled, “Thanks, love.”

“Of course,” J.D. winked.

Sarah, being the newest member of the book club, had stayed out of the way and watched throughout the night. As the sun cast its first streaks of orange in the sky, a vampire appeared in front of her. She slid a copy of Jane Eyre in her purse and asked Ree if killing him was technically murder considering he was already dead. Ree smiled and tossed Sarah her walking stick.

 

Sarah Brentyn tweet4blogs - sig

You all are awesome. This was fun. 🙂

Hope you have some sparks of inspiration from your fantastic tweets so far. Have you searched for yourself yet? Did you find anything to expand?