Tag Archives: #99WordStories

Flakes #99Wordstories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story using the word or idea, flakes. What or who is a flake? Is there tension or phenomenon that is creating flakes? Can flakes be massive or minute? Go to your flakiest memories for living images to play with. Go where the prompt leads!

This is where I went. I hope you enjoy it.

Retro Black Light Disco

On their first date, Paul took Josie to the Retro Black Light Disco. She’d heard about it but never been, so was curious. “Wear something white. You’ll really stand out,” her older friends advised. Josie was amused that Paul dressed all in black, as usual, but guessed some habits were hard to break. Josie absolutely glowed under the lights, but Paul virtually disappeared. Until he turned around, looking like he’d brought a glowworm army on his back. Josie started to say, “How beautiful!” when she realised they were flakes of dandruff. “Gross,” she thought. “I’ve seen enough,” she said.

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Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Cryptozoology, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

Confidence #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about confidence. Is a character confident or struggling? Why? Is confidence cultural, compelling, or conflicting? What is the value of confidence? Go where the prompt leads!

Having an ‘I can’ attitude, or confidence, is something I always encouraged in my children, whether I birthed them or taught them. Maybe because it was never encouraged in me and is definitely not a strong suit, I’ve always found it important to nourish. A story about confidence should have been easy to write. I’m sure I’ve written many stories about confidence before, but I just couldn’t get one to work. I finally realised that what I was trying to write was based on a true event. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t get the ending. I decided to go with an anecdote rather than fiction. I hope you enjoy it.

That’s Confidence

When Bec was little I ran play/educational sessions for children and their parents at home.  I worked hard preparing the room, dedicated for that purpose, for our sessions. Finally, everything was arranged, with various art and craft materials organised in boxes and tubs.

Bec, 2½ years old, was excited. ‘Of course,’ I said when she asked if she could make something.

I’d only moved away for a moment when her excitement drew me back: ‘Look what I made!’ Her face beamed.

She’d upended nearly everything (exaggeration, only slight) and glued one cotton ball onto a piece of paper. Wow!

Look what I made! © Norah Colvin

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Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt A Blade of Grass, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

A Blade of Grass #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes a blade of grass. What can you compare it to? Or in contrast? Is it a character prop or a story linchpin? Go poetic, go any genre or tone. Go where the prompt leads!

This is my response, not quite as poetic as the examples Charli shared, but that’s where it took me.

Rabbit Food

Everything was just so. She’d never felt worthy. This was a chance to prove herself. The fresh flower centrepiece belied her butterflies.

“Mum, Dad, welcome!” She smiled.  They pushed into the room.

“I don’t eat rabbit food,” said her father, as Jacinda passed him the salad of mixed leaves she’d grown on her balcony.

“I grew it myself.”

“You should know by now your father never eats greens.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Are you trying to poison me?”

“Why would I?”

“At least I could whistle with a blade of grass.”

Jacinda was cut as from a blade of grass.

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Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Blanket, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch soon.

Blanket #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes a blanket. Any interpretation works! What happens to a story when you give a character the prop of a blanket? Is the blanket the story? Is it a memory container, a source of comfort, or smothering? Go where the prompt leads!

For my story, I used the word blanket to mean cover, obscure or block, in particular, like a cloud blocking the sun. The inspiration came from a recent post called Enveloping Tranquility by blogger friend Annika Perry, in which she mentioned ‘a cloud of butterflies’. If you haven’t done so already, please pop over to Annika’s blog and read her delightful post.

I loved the idea and wondered at the thought of a cloud of butterflies obscuring, or blanketing, the sun. That’s where my imagination took me, perhaps not as far as the imaginations of the children in my story though. I hope you enjoy it.

A Cloud of Butterflies

“I’m gunna dig all the way through the world and come out in China,” said Nathan.

“I’m going to the moon,” said Mandy.

“You can’t get to the moon this way.”

“Can too!”

“The moon’s in space, silly.”

“So?”

Nathan sighed. “Let’s just dig.”

“It’s really deep,” said Mandy in a little while. “We can stand in it now.”

“Yeah!” said Nathan. He continued digging. “I hope it doesn’t rain. Tell that cloud to go away.”

Mandy shook her fist. “Go away cloud!” Then she said, “It’s not a cloud. It’s butterflies!”

“Wow!” said Nathan. “A cloud of butterflies!”

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A few years ago, 2015 to be exact, I was fascinated by a huge kaleidoscope (swarm) of blue tiger butterflies as they migrated northwards in autumn. I’ve always loved the word kaleidoscope as the collective noun for butterflies, but how appropriate cloud is too. The migrating butterflies may not have blocked the sun like a blanket, but they cast shadows on the sand as they flew over the beach. Magnificent!

If you’d like to read more about the blue tiger butterflies, follow this link and scroll down a couple of paragraphs, or follow this link. In this second article, the migrating butterflies are referred to as a cloud. So, there it was all along.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Insect Nation, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

Southwest Pumpkins #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that depicts the painting, “Southwest Pumpkins” by TOJ. Feel free to explore the nuances — do you focus on the art or seek a story? What vibes do you get? Who shows up to enter the image? What happens? Go where the prompt leads!

I thought of the painting as a scene from a doorway. I wondered what the doorway led to or from, and who was standing in it and why. My story relates to those ponderings. I hope you enjoy it.

The Next Leg

The distant mountains did a thumbs up as if measuring how far the moon had still to travel before they’d reach their destination. While this taverna was welcoming, not all were so obliging, and the desert could never be thought of as a friend. They thanked their host and gathered their belongings, including replenished canteens and knapsacks. Grasping their hands firmly, the host wished them a safe journey. He advised on signs to seek and others to avoid. They bade farewell, but then, before they left, they finger framed the scene, a memory to guide them on their way.

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Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt It’s Festa Time, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

Festa #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a festa. It can be any festival, celebration, or use of the word. Is it food-related or an event? Is it an object or a shout-out? Who is involved and why? What happens? Go where the prompt leads!

For my response, I’ve stayed with Josie and the aunts I introduced in two previous stories, A Dark Horse and Whether the Weather. I’m not sure where these characters have come from, but I’m having fun getting to know them. Be assured that they are not based on anyone, currently or previously living, I know.

Family Fun

The celebration was progressing in the usual Festa fashion. The aunts huddled down one end, criticising and badmouthing anyone out of earshot, and even some who weren’t. The men propped up the bar ensuring they didn’t miss their fair share of the free-flowing beer. The children played spotlight outside, relishing the lack of supervision. Any young people whose protests had failed wished they were somewhere, anywhere, else. Including Josie. The stranger, who’d become more intriguing with the aunts’ warnings, was totally self-absorbed. Seems the cool exterior was just that. Nothing of substance below.  Now what was Josie to do?

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Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt The Weather Arrives, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

The Arrival of the Weather #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about the arrival of the weather. It can mean any kind of weather event meteorological or mythological. Is the weather personified, random, or calculating? Where does it arrive? Is it typical or epoch-changing? Who is involved? And if the Womam Who Doesn’t Want Red Hair shows up, well, ask her what’s happening. Go where the prompt leads!

This is my response. I hope you enjoy it. I’ve drawn on the same group of characters as appeared in a previous story.

Whether the Weather

Thunderous footsteps echoed down the hall, announcing her arrival.

“Look what the storm blew in.” One aunt grimaced, nodding towards the figure in the doorway.

“I’d say she brought the storm with her. As usual,” said another, noticing the flashing eyes and dark clouds encircling her wild red hair.

“Don’t worry,” said a third. “It’ll just be a storm in her E-cup.”

“Don’t you mean teacup?” asked Josie.

“No,” said the third, patting her chest. “Elsie’s always too big for her E-cup.”

The aunts laughed, but as Elsie stormed towards them, their laughter evaporated as quickly as a sunshower.

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Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Journey to Home can be read at the Carrot Ranch. Sadly, I missed that one. Perhaps I could have written about Josie’s journey home, if I’d thought of it.

Roots Like a Mountain #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about roots like a mountain. Feel free to play with both concepts of roots and mountains. How can you create a story from the combination? What character (or traits) come to mind? Where and when does the story take place? Go where the prompt leads!

This is where the prompt led me. I hope you enjoy it.

A Dark Horse

The conversation between aunts and cousins stopped abruptly when an aunt exclaimed, “So, the prodigal son returns.”

Everyone eyed the stranger.

“Who is he?” Josie asked. “He’s hot.”

“The family’s black sheep,” whispered a cousin.

“Stay away from him,” said her aunt. “He has roots like a mountain.”

“What’s that mean?” asked Josie.

 “Don’t let that cool exterior fool you,” said another. “It’s just the tip of the iceberg,”

“A dark horse then,” thought Josie, her interest rising.

“Still waters run deep – and dangerous,” cautioned her aunt, but Josie didn’t hear.

“Hi, I’m Josie,” she said, extending her hand.

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Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Immature, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

Commitment in a Can #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story based on the phrase “commitment in a can.” What is the commitment and to whom? Describe the can. How does it expand the story? Go where the prompt leads!

Canned Energy

The shelves were bursting with cans of almost everything imaginable: the purest air from southern oceans, sparkling water from ancient underground springs, and even sunshine from Australia. She wasn’t sure what she wanted until she found it. For years she’d joked she’d make a fortune if she could can a toddler’s energy. Now someone had. She loaded her basket and dashed home. If only she’d read the small print. She was soon cartwheeling across the lounge room, star jumping on the bed and preparing to fly like superwoman. If she did, or didn’t, fly, she’d be committed for sure.

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Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Rubber Duck, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

Rubber Duck #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a rubber duck. Where is this duck — somewhere typical like a tub or somewhere surprising like a roller derby. Who is with the duck? What is happening? Go where the prompt leads!

Ever since I read the prompt, I’ve had Ernie from Sesame Street singing Rubber Ducky on endless repeat in my head. I’m so sorry, but sharing is something I do, so I just have to share it with you too.

I’ve continued the nonsense with a nonsense story, so that probably requires two apologies in this post. Oh well. Enjoy anyway!

Muddy Footprints

“Aargh! Who just walked all those muddy footprints through the house?” said Farmer Jo.

“Not me!” said the animals in unison, displaying their best innocent faces. “There’s no mud on my feet.” They lifted their feet to show.

“It definitely wasn’t me,” said Rubber Ducky, “for I have no feet. See.”

“Then I suppose it was Mr Invisible. Again,” sighed Farmer Jo.

“It was,” chimed the animals.

Farmer Jo scoffed.

“It was me,” said Mr. Invisible, gradually materialising before their eyes. “Sorry.”

“What?” said Farmer Jo. “So, you do exist. You’re not just in my imagination. That’s a relief.”

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Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Parents of Adult Children, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.