He scanned her face, searched deep within her eyes, read her every wish.
“A magic balloon,” he said, selecting a dark blue.
He stretched it this way and that, then blew. As the balloon filled, the blue lightened and brightened. It shed sparkles that glistened in the sunlight. He knotted the end, held it out, then twisted and twirled and pulled it into a star.
He wound the ribbon around April’s wrist. “Up and away!” he whispered, as April was whisked aloft.
Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.
Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Never Ending can be read at the Carrot Ranch here. Sadly, I didn’t get to join in with that prompt due to a (brief and mild) tussle with covid.
When I began my blogging journey in 2013, I never dreamed that I would:
continue writing two or more posts a week for more than seven years
participate in weekly flash fiction prompts at the Carrot Ranch year after year
meet so many fascinating people from nearly every continent with varied backgrounds and interests
make so many wonderful friends in the blogosphere whose encouragement and support is constant (thank you)
become addicted to the conversations that occur on my blog and theirs
enter into a rodeo contest, a writing one at that, and receive honourable mentions for my efforts.
(99 words)
The 2020 rodeo is over now, the winners have been announced and prizes been distributed. All submissions (except for the TUFF contest) and winning entries for all contests are available to read at the Carrot Ranch on the Rodeo Contests page.
Scroll below my response to this week’s prompt for my rodeo submissions.
Dreams Fulfilled
She dreamed she could control the weather, but never believed she could. Until she did.
She wished it would rain.
‘It always rains in spring,’ they scoffed.
‘From a blue sky?’
‘Sometimes,’ they said.
She wished the rain would stop.
‘Showers never last long,’ they said.
‘I love rain,’ another said. ‘Can you make it rain forever?’
She wished.
Rain fell, first gently, then in torrents. It rained for months, overfilling rivers and washing villages away.
They begged her to make it stop.
‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I must have dreamed three wishes. I never dreamed this would happen.’
My participation in the 2020 Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Rodeo
I entered three of the weekly challenges and was a judge in the fourth. I also entered the TUFF contest that was held over four weeks.
Here is a brief description of each contest and my entry. I hope you enjoy them.
#1 Folk Tales and Fables — Kerry E.B. Black asked participants to write an original folk tale or fable with a western feel in 99 words.
My entry (earned an honourable mention):
Snow White and the Seven Gunslingers
The huntsman made the all-too-common mistake of revealing everything before enacting the deed. Snow White kicked him in the shins and escaped into the forest.
Exhausted, she chanced upon a cottage. It appeared abandoned so she went inside and soon fell asleep on one of the seven beds. She was startled awake by a septet of menacing heavily-armed gunslingers.
When she explained her predicament, the gunslingers were outraged. “He’s a bad one, and she’s the worst. Stay here. We’re onto it.”
She heard them say as they rode out of sight, “Hi Ho! We’ve got a job to do.”
#2 Double Ennead Syllabic Poetry — Colleen M. Chesebro asked participants to write in a new 99-syllable poetic form she created for Carrot Ranch.
My entry:
Pain — Inside and Out
Hoofs pound across the roof
Hunting a way in
The pillow muffles but still they thump so loud
Relentless drenching rains
Over all around
Hoofs pound inside my head
Brutal throbbing pains
Lightning lasers pierce my eyes I cry dry tears
The torture does not cease
Blinding like a rage
Hoofs pound inside my chest
Warning it will burst
While my clammy skin pours sweat in waterfalls
Pain grips my heart and shreds
What remains of me
#3 Git Along and Start Writin’ — Marsha Ingrao asked participants to write a 3-act story based on a western song in 99 words.
I was a judge, hence no entry.
#4 Wanted Alive — Sam “Goldie” Kirk asked participants to write a 99 word story in response to a wanted poster and the words ‘Reach for it, mister!’
My entry (earned an honourable mention):
Squirreled Candy
“Reach for it, mister, and you’re dead!”
Henry meant it. He hadn’t squirreled his penny candy away to let others help themselves to it. Every night, more disappeared. He’d wanted to catch the culprits alive and receive restitution, but they’d become too greedy.
His wanted posters hadn’t helped. A stake-out was the only way.
Night after night he tried to stay awake, but every night he failed and every morning, more candy had disappeared … until now.
The startled intruder dropped the candy jar and disappeared into the darkness.
“I’ll get you next time!” Henry fired after the squirrel.
4-week TUFF Love contest — Carrot Ranch’s lead buckaroo Charli Mills asked participants to revise an original western romance through a 99-59-9-99 word process with each step requiring a different craft twist. Since the contest required all parts to be submitted, only the winning entry is published on the site.
My entry:
Spaghetti Western
TUFF Part 1: Original 99-word draft
Fortune teller said love’d arrive on a stage coach, but she’d given up waitin’, watchin’ and hopin’ years ago. The only thing ever arrived was trouble, and most of them in a skirt. She’d done alright for herself, runnin’ the only eatin’ house in town, servin’ up meals to ‘spectable folks, not them gunslingers and their sportin’ women types. She’d only had trouble once – addin’ a new dish to the menu and servin’ it up unannounced-like. Customers weren’t none too pleased when she served ‘em worms. “’tain’t worms,” she said. “It’s spaghetti. We’re in a spaghetti western, ain’t we?”
TUFF Part 2: 59-word Story with Original POV
Always independent that one, tough inside an’ out. Never needed no man, she said. No man ever good enough, as like. Spent her time ‘sperimentin’ and servin’ up grub in her eatin’ house. Never liked no trouble. One night trouble found ‘er. She served up some Eyetalian dish — spaghetti. Everyone spat it out, thought she was feedin’ ‘em worms.
TUFF Part 2: 59-word Story with Different POV
The fortune teller said love would arrive on a stage coach. I watched every coach for ten years. Not one eligible candidate stepped down — only gunslingers and floosies. Then one day, this elegant gentleman arrived. I thought I’d impress him with a new Italian recipe. He spat it everywhere. ‘Worms,’ he said. Like he’d never heard of spaghetti westerns.
TUFF Part 3: Three 9-word Taglines for Your Story
Stage coach fails to deliver fortune’s promise of love.
Serving meals no substitute for a helping of love.
Italian spaghetti rejected. Spray deems it unsuitable for westerners.
TUFF Part 4: Final Revised 99-word Story with Prop
“I see love,” the fortune teller crooned, “arriving on a stage coach.”
She cut words from a travel brochure and pasted them above the door: “Amore. Prendere per la gola”. For years she waited, but no eligible men arrived — only gunslingers and floosies.
One day, an elegant gentleman with an exquisite companion stepped from the coach. Hearing they were siblings, she hoped an exotic dish might impress. Unfortunately, he accused her of serving worms. However, she was besotted. As they held each other close, she sighed, “I never expected to find love in a spaghetti western dish like you.”
Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.
The prompt led me back to Marnie, a character about whom I have written a number of flash stories, as I try to figure out who she is and what her world is like. We know that she was both neglected and abused at home and bullied at school. One special teacher Miss R has been her confidante and champion over the years, instilling in Marnie an inkling of self-worth and giving her the will to survive. This story takes us to her graduation day.
Of dreams and nightmares
Marnie snuck into the back row. The ceremony was underway. “Follow your dream” and “What is your dream?” were displayed on the large screen above the stage. As each graduating student took the microphone to share their dreams for the future, images of past achievements were projected onto the screen. Marnie should have been there too: but what could she share? Who would listen or even care? Only Miss R. Marnie craned her neck for a farewell glimpse, then left as quietly as she had entered. Once she had escaped her nightmare, perhaps then she could begin to dream.
My mind skipped immediately to a song from my childhood, remembering Sunday evenings when we huddled around the television set to watch The Wonderful World of Disney:
“When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are”
What a wonderful thought – all success stories have to start somewhere – why not with us?
But there is another saying too, Be careful what you wish for.
This is my response. I hope you enjoy it.
The wish
The words replayed continuously as he sat on the step searching the sky for a wishing star: “When you wish upon a star …”
Inside, the adults’ voices grew louder and harsher. He covered his ears and sang through his tears.
A crash followed a thump, then all went quiet. He held his breath.
He crept to the door and peeked in. Mum, slumped on the floor, cradled Dad’s head in her lap. Blood was everywhere.
“Call triple zero.”
Huddled together they watched paramedics try to revive him.
“I didn’t mean …” each whispered to themselves, but weren’t convinced.
Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.
Norah Colvin 