Tag Archives: Carrot Ranch flash fiction

A Cryptozoologist #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 cryptozoologist. Who is this character? What cryptids do they research and why? Are they serious about their work, skeptical, or scheming to fool others? Go where the prompt leads!

For my story, I’ve gone back to the family reunion for another take with Jodie and the dark stranger. Like Josie, I’d never heard of a cryptozoologist before. Do they really exist?

The Cryptozoologist

Josie and her cousins stood around the punch bowl, quenching their thirst after a rowdy line dance (family tradition). Josie was catching up on all the goss she’d missed out while away: who was with whom, who’d broken up, etcetera.

“What about him? Who’s he with?” she nodded towards the lone one in the shadows.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just with himself.”

“What do you mean?”

Susie laughed. “He’s a cryptozoologist.”

“A crypto-what? Does he mine cryptocurrency?”

“Not that interesting. He studies cryptids.”

“What are cryptids?”

“Imaginary monsters. They’re all in his mind.”

“Oh?” said Josie.

Everyone laughed.

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

Something Shaggy #99Word Stories

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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 something shaggy. It can be carpet, a hair-do, or some sort of critter. How can something shaggy steer the story? Go where the prompt leads!

Charli wrote about a new shaggy duvet she had purchased. I couldn’t imagine having a shaggy duvet. It just wouldn’t be necessary where I live, and certainly not at this time of year. I can understand how delightful it would be in colder climes though and trust it will keep Charli warm.

At first, all I could think of was the shaggy hairstyles of yesteryear. Then I thought of those shaggy dog stories, those long rambling unfunny jokes, also from the past.  I wasn’t feeling the inspiration until Charli replied to my comment on her post. She said that her new duvet was ‘lovely warmth, not too heavy and oh-so-soft!’ It seemed like the Goldilocks complex and I thought I’d apply that principle to my Shaggy Dog story. I hope you enjoy it.

Shaggy Dog

“I want a dog,” said Jason.

“You’re in the right place,” said the attendant at Rescue Kennels. “We’ve all sorts of dogs. What sort are you after?”

“A shaggy dog, please.”

The attendant showed Jason the shaggy dogs.

“They need a lot grooming,” he warned.

“Oh. Not shaggy then. Curly perhaps?”

Jason shook his own curly head at the curly dogs. They’d need grooming too.

“How about short?” said the attendant.

“They’re awfully noisy,” said Jason, as they walked the aisles.

“They are dogs,” said the attendant.

 “Right,” said Jason. “Do you have any cats? Maybe a shaggy cat?”

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Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Confidence, 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.

Insect Nation #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 insect nation. You can focus on a particular insect or all insects. Is your story one of acceptance and understanding? Scientific knowledge? Or apocalyptic horror? Get bugged and go where the prompt leads!

I’ve stayed at the family party with Josie, the aunts and the stranger from previous stories for a bit more fun. I hope you enjoy it.

Mealtime chit-chat

“What have we got?” Finally, the stranger, now identified as Paul, asked a question.

“The usual for one of these shindigs,” said Josie. “Aunt Agnes’s lasagne, Clara’s meatballs, Priscilla’s chicken fricassee and Joe’s sliced meats.”

“And for dessert, there’s Marie’s apple pie and Josh’s lumpy custard. Looks like Great-Aunt Rose has added berries to her strawberry jelly,” said Josie, taking a scoop.

“Blaaah!” Josie spat the jelly. “That’s not a berry!”

“It’s just a fly.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Flies don’t hurt. Extra protein.”

“Then you have it,” said Josie, shoving the plate into him and storming off.

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I used two real events for inspiration.

The first occurred at a family party when one of the dishes served up was a lasagne, which I’m sure would have been delicious if I could have ignored the flies (just one or two) baked into the top layer of béchamel sauce.

The second was a crunchy cappuccino I had once, that forever ended my love affair with cappuccino. When I removed the crunchy bit from my mouth to investigate what it was, I discovered it was a fly. The establishment was very good. They apologised and offered to make me another one. I’m not sure if I accepted their offer, but I’ve never ordered another cappuccino.

Flies and the Australian summer go hand in hand. I’m never keen on their company, and abhor them as a food source.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Southwest Pumpkins, 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.

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.

Immature #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 something or someone immature. Is it a wine not yet ready to uncork or an adult not ready to adult? You can follow the flight of immature fledglings or come up with something unexpected. Go where the prompt leads!

My story involves two fictional characters discussing a fictional male. I hope you enjoy it.

He’s So Immature

How immature is he?

He’s so immature he wears a superman cape whenever we leave the house.

He plays hopscotch on the paving stones and zig-zags between the lunchtime crowd.

He declines the lift then immediately pushes the button and thinks it’s hilarious when the door opens again. No one else is amused.

He rolls lollipops down the aisle and interrupts everyone, saying, ‘Scuse me. Scuse me.’

He explodes packets of crisps during quiet times in the movies.

He farts loudly in public and laughs even louder, uncontrollably. He’s so immature.

That’s for sure. How old is he?

Four.

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