Image by Silvia from Pixabay
February 6, 2023, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story as a love letter to nature. You could reach back to more pastoral times of writing or enter into the future. Who is writing the letter — an ant or an aunt? Is it a lifetime of love or eons?
So long since last you were here.
The memory of warm summer days
grow dim as our patience thins.
brave new shoots compete with bitter frosts.
cruelly bitten for their haste
their dreams are on hold, ours yet to be born.
Mother Nature sleeps
Her time will come when the warmth.
Of the sun reaches down into the soil
Visions of rainbow hues
Hold back the silver ice.
Its days are numbered.
Packets of seeds promise the moon.
My fingers itch to ready the pots.
And dream of glory’s fragrance
Days of sunshine fill our days.
With sweet expectation…
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
January 16, 2023, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a lady shadow. Who is this person and why do they lurk in the shadows. What is the tone and setting for your story? Go where the prompt leads!
February 21: Story Challenge in 99-words
February 21, 2022, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story using the phrase, “I’d rather be…” You fill in what comes next. What would a character(s) rather be doing and why?
I am what I am
I make no excuses
Nor do I make changes
Yet there are days
when I feel like a non-entity
Grey, faded, invisible
to the world outside
These are my duvet days
When I wonder,
Can I give my mind a do over?
Introduce new thoughts
Not so easy,
the old grey matter is stubborn
It runs on automatic
Habits, like chewing your nails
Hard to break
These days, I imagine
So many kinds of me
None seem to fit
In the end
I would rather be…
Right where I am…
October 7, 2021, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes whispers. It can be beautiful or creepy and any genre. Where are the whispers, who are they from, and what do they say if they say anything at all.
Death closed its hand
Beneath the whispering autumn leaves
The old head stones tell of loved ones
I wonder, are some souls on fire?
Do they all lie at rest
Do they whisper of dancing under the sun?
Kissing under moonlight
Do they come back
Whispering in my brain
Of life beyond these cold stones
As yet, none have whispered
Of angels, golden harps or seeing Christ
Before you think me mad
I don’t hear disembodied voices all the time
There is one that stays with me
A female voice, telling me life goes on
Right there, beside you…
© Anita Dawes 2021
October 1: Flash Fiction Challenge
October 1, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that happens on the dusty trail. It can take place anywhere. Who is your character, where are they going, and why? Bonus points if they meet up with Kid and Pal from D. Avery’s Ranch Yarns and Saddle Up Saloon (they hit the trail so TUFF could take over the saloon).
We cannot see the wind
Only the lifting of leaves
The swaying of grass
As it passes
We cannot hear the wind
Only the echo
It leaves behind
The dark curtain of dust
It sweeps from the ground
All but swallows
The four horsemen
Riding from the Starbuck Ranch
Out to recover a few stray cattle
Before the savannah winds
Cover the small town of Starbuck
With a dark blanket from hell
Ask my mother
When she tries clearing it up
The air around her turns dusty blue
The four riders return
Spitting blue dust…
Cattle safe and sound
Not sure how this will work, for Charli Mills from Carrot Ranch Literary Community is having a spot of bother this week. From being snowed in the worst blizzard/snowstorm in history to a complete computer meltdown, we have no link to the Carrot Ranch site.
Charli is struggling to keep going via phone, so massive support for this brave lady please!
Charli’s back yard!
I have been searching for something
anything to fill the void in my life.
Here I am in a traffic jam, trying to get home
Soft snow falling, and within an hour
I am buried in a tin igloo.
I have water, biscuits left over from lunch.
There is a strange kind of silence.
Maybe it is the whiteness all around me
the sound of my own blood in my head.
How long before I am found?
Five hours to think about my life
Now I am sitting with a hot cup of tea
given by a smiling stranger…
This weeks 99 word challenge prompt is Mashed Potatoes…
When I read these words this morning, I was taken back to my childhood, reading the Dandy comic. Desperate Dan with his huge plate of mashed potato with two large sausages sticking out, looking like a bull had landed there.
I have to tell you that no one does mash like Jaye does! The minute she begins peeling the spuds, I swear my kids pick up some strange signal. They come knocking from all over Hampshire, just popping in, big smiles on their faces. They know there’s mash on the go and they say it is just a coincidence…
(99 words, no more, no less)
I am your ghost, your past. I walk before you on thorny pathways so you shall not walk the path of sorrow. You shall not see the things I have.
You are ten years old now, so blow out your candles and let loose those balloons with all their wishes attached.
I have received them now; your wishes made from your past come true, they have come to pass. Soon I shall re-join you when adult paths you reach, until then, I collect every balloon and every wish you make.
I wait in shadows until we are one again …
© 2018 Anita Dawes