Wednesday, December 11, 2013

#55WordChallenge: Week Eighty-Three


Welcome back to #55WordChallenge! Hopefully you had a nice month with Nano and are ready to keep the flow going. Also, welcome to guest judge, James Hazzard, author of the Dead Sea Games series. Check out episode 3, Dead Sea Games: Kidnapped. 
For those that are uninitiated, the 55 Word Challenge is a contest to write a story in 55 words or less. Not an easy task, but fun and I have been blown away by some of the entries. See for yourself, past contests can be found here. The challenge begins at noon Eastern time every Wednesday and ends at noon Thursday. The story is based on one of three photo prompts. My only request is no porn. I don't want to hear graphic details. If it is erotic, make it titillating, not obscene. I know that can be done and done well.
The story is to be posted in the comment section below, along with your twitter handle or email address, so I can contact you if you are the winner.

And what does the winner get? Besides bragging rights? This badge, which can proudly be displayed on your blog or website. You can even have it tattooed onto your body, but that might be a little weird.  
 I have also added 2 new badges. An Honorable Mention badge and an Overachiever badge. To be eligible for the Overachiever Badge, you need to use all 3 prompts.



If anyone is interested in contributing a prize, a book, cover art, whatever you want, let me know and we will work something out. If you are an artist that would like to have your work featured, let me know!

 And here we go...

Photo Prompt:



  1. Stoking Coals

    I hate this part. The deer eyes creep me out when they move, as if it still lives, fur burning next to oak balls, bone stew, and Jeremy’s tomatoes. Smoke trails from its nostrils like steam on winter morning. When it blinks, I yelp, same as always.

    “Ritual’s started,” Tanya says. “Get the new girls.”


  2. Tragedy and Treasure on Highway 7

    There’s no bicycle for Johnny Smithson this Christmas. His mother, a casualty of the icy curve on Highway 7, launched over the guardrail with the family’s layaway treasures. Although tragic, a blessing for the McAvoys who live beneath the embankment. Christmas morning the twins shared Johhny’s bicycle, while mother roasted Mrs. Smithson for holiday dinner.


  3. When he mentioned stocks, I thought he invested in equities. You'd never guess from his shack but it made sense at dinner time.

    Bones simmered in his pot while some game roasted on a spit.

    It was tender, delicious and a new flavour to me.

    The small bicycle behind the shed did puzzle me, though.

    55 words

  4. Dangerous Meeting

    I told him this would be our goodbye. I would never bother him again. So, he came into the house, overly emotional, unsuspected, just the way I wanted him to be. Waiting for me. For the very last time.
    I was outside. Ready to set the house on fire.
    Only death would keep us apart.


  5. "How many?"

    "Two under the boat, four in the basement, and the dog's clawing at the north wall. Probably a few behind there."


    "Couple few fingers, nothing more."

    "Kept his trophies in the walls, huh? Fucking amateur."

    "Well, let's load up before the cops get here. That deer head ain't feeding everyone for Christmas."


  6. Max approached his dad’s shed with shuffling steps. Lost opportunities weighed heavy on his shoulders. “I’ll call him next week…I’ll go see him during the holiday…” Years passed by with hardly a word. If only he had left a note, something to say Max was forgiven. Then he saw the bike…repaired and ready to ride.

  7. Man Hunter

    Carefully placing the bike, I stepped back to survey the overall effect.
    Scattered abandoned debris would attract adventurous scavengers. Open windows and doorways hinted at shelter or unlooted treasures.
    Settling into the shadowy hide, checking fields of fire, I quieted my grumbling belly. My boiled bone soup would soon be replaced by something fresher.

    55 words

  8. There wasn’t much left to eat. She looked at the deer head, how could she cook that?

    “Mummy, look what I found!” Her son sat on a tiny bike, his knees up round the handlebars.

    She smiled. “Cool.”

    It soon dropped; she’d wanted more for him than this shack. Still, somewhere was better than nowhere.

    55 Words

  9. We were so poor I took the place of the bicycle donning a red sweater and black rubber boots. He sat on my seat back, grabbed handlebar ears, and we rolled fast as lightening until the tire blew. We careened over to the gully's bed. A streak of red and a crumpled metal frame.
    55 words