On a Footprints Challenge

I am going to be participating in this excellent challenge by Frank, from A Frank Angle. If you love writing, especially short stories, then this is the challenge you will certainly enjoy. If you’re interested, please check it out on Frank’s page, and maybe join too! 🙂

A Frank Angle

It’s challenge time!

Long-time visitors to my little corner of the world know that writing fiction isn’t my thing. With over 1,900 posts, I’ve written one fiction post. Actually two because the original post did turn into a short story challenge that involved me changing my original story.

Not that I’m changing my format in on these pages, but what the heck – let’s try it again!

1. Write a short story based on the image below in the genre of your choice.


2. The story must be 150 words or less.

3. Publish your story after I post mine (Monday, July 10th @ 12:15 am Eastern US) AND link back to the post with my story (not this post).

4. Display the image above your story

5. The story title must be Footprints in the Sand

6. Display the following image after the story.

View original post

Reflection People

So once I had a dream that there were two of us. I mean two of me and two of you.

Hey that’s interesting.

Yeah. It was weird. Like we had parallel lives in the same houses and we just accepted that there were two of us. Like you would say, ‘oh the other me went to the shops today. I’m so glad she did because I really needed knickers.’

The two me’s share knickers? That’s weird.

Well not really when you think about it because it is you, just another you. You’re the same, though. Same person.

How can we be the same person if we are two different people?

Think of it this way, imagine your reflection stepped out of your mirror.

That would be awful.

Hear me out okay? She stepped out of your mirror and then she started just being you but in a non threatening way. She just did the things you didn’t like doing, like, I dunno, buying knickers..

I love buying knickers. They are so pretty. I want to buy my own knickers.

OK, ok, how about taking the bins out or cleaning the litter tray?

Yes, that stuff.

And going to work for you when you really don’t want to and doing your taxes and all that. And she doesn’t complain because she is YOU, just the reflection version. So you are still doing all of that only now you have double the man power and double the brain power and double the hair and nails and feet and fingers. So, really, you would be at an advantage. Imagine cooking dinner, you could just relax and read a book and you could also chop onions and fry vegetables.

What about if the reflection turned against me?

Hmmm, yes. That could be a possibility. You have a real whole functioning brain that is pretty much a spare brain so why WOULDN’T you want to become your own separate person?

Exactly.

Well, I must think about that and get back to you.

Can’t wait to hear about it.

Ok. See you tomorrow.

Same place?

Same place.

7d003ac8e087063a4fc4bbe15f38a68a.jpg

Two Cold Uncles Knitting to the Beat

Hello everybody!

I was sitting in the library today, trying so hard to conjure up an idea for a short story. I have a hand in on the 17th of March; I have nothing to write about!

Anyway so something inspired me to get on to google and type in ‘story idea’. A website called ‘Plot Generator‘ came up and I thought, holy moly, have I just stumbled upon a goldmine?!

Turns out I did. A hilarious gold mine. I filled in some boxes with keywords and names, and it generated a little story for me. It had me laughing so much I had to get up and take a breather.

Have a look, if you’re interested!

 

Two Cold Uncles Knitting to the Beat

Twig Blackadder was thinking about Emilia Blake again. Emilia was a kind angel with handsome hair and slim lips.

Twig  walked over to the window and reflected on his pretty surroundings. He had always hated peaceful Lancing with its slobbering, strong seaside. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel sad.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a kind figure of Emilia Blake.

Twig gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a stubborn, wilful, coffee drinker with built hair and brunette lips. His friends saw him as a modern, magnificent monster. Once, he had even made a cup of tea for a villainous grandma.

But not even a stubborn person who had once made a cup of tea for a villainous grandma, was prepared for what Emilia had in store today.

The rain hammered like thinking parrot, making Twig bittersweet. Twig  grabbed an ethereal key that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Twig stepped outside and Emilia came closer, he could see the slobbering glint in her eye.

Emilia gazed with the affection of 4480 selfish amused ant. She said, in hushed tones, “I love you and I want closure.”

Twig  looked back, even more bittersweet and still fingering the ethereal key. “Emilia, I’ve always loved you,” he replied.

They looked at each other with nostalgic feelings, like two glorious, giant goldfish sobbing at a very considerate holiday, which had piano music playing in the background and two cold uncles knitting to the beat.

Twig  studied Emilia’s handsome hair and slim lips. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” began Twig in apologetic tones, “but I don’t feel the same way, and I never will. I just don’t love you Emilia.”

Emilia looked happy, her emotions raw like an old, open old shoes.

Twig could actually hear Emilia’s emotions shatter into 8876 pieces. Then the kind angel hurried away into the distance.

Not even a cup of coffee would calm Twig’s nerves tonight.

THE END

coverImage.php.jpg

They even generated a cover for me!