Here’s a short story I whipped up a few minutes ago. The photo prompt seemed a bit too obvious to me. I didn’t want to end up in the same place n other writers did, so I used it solely for inspiration and not topic. I let it lead to a completely different mental image. Is that cheating? Probably not. The photo prompted the idea for this story, and I wrote the requisite 150 words. So there. 🙂
Click the (prompt) photo to be lead to the host page for VisDare.
Passersby stop, lingering for a while. It’s hard not to gawk at them. They look ridiculous, all dressed up and lined off like that. Some people pose with them for cutesy touristy pictures.
It’s funny, the idea of powerful paperdolls. They’re well equipped for whatever may transpire, on the off chance that anything ever does. This is downtown. Central Nassau. Crowded and full of life, no one ever dares to step out of line here. Not even the paperdolls.
They wear those impractical uniforms with pride. The long, dark pants, long-sleeved high-neck tunics, limp belts, and white gloves make no sense. It’s hot. Sweltering, really. The funny looking hats barely fit. All it would take is one swift wind and they’d take flight.
Wave lines of traffic through the intersection. Smile at tourists. Pose for pictures. Sweat.
Horrible job. I guess that’s the trade-off for the right to bear arms.
Photo source: Bahamas Press
(Don’t visit there looking for real news. It’s sensational rubbish.)
Yes, this is making fun of the local authorities. Well… Their uniform. Because it’s my story, and I can do that. And they look silly. Arrest me. I (vis)dare you. Hehehe.
No, it’s not a snippet from my life. Sorry, guys. I know that makes it less of an exciting story, but, well… What can I say? At least I made it up. I can get some credit for that, right?
This one is response to this week’s Trifecta Challenge to use “band” in a story of 33-333 words.
Krazy Glue Sandwich
“Everyone has a right to know, Mother.”
“I don’t have a right to my own privacy? Since when did everyone’s rights nullify mine?”
Mother always knew how to shut us up. To make us feel stupid. To take control.
I searched her face for any sign that she may let us win, just this once. Vacant eyes stared straight ahead in defiance.
Click the photo to read more.
Yep! It’s another story resulting from a Trifecta prompt.
He loomed over her, whisky-breath escaping in heavy pants, resting on her face. His calloused hands pressed against her chest, persistent and rhythmic. Beads of sweat rolled down his whiskered face, dripping on her…
To read the rest, click the image.
I’ve written another short story in response to a prompt. This time the prompt is a photo. Click it to read the story. Don’t forget to comment!
I wrote a short story for a prompt by Trifecta. They give a one-word prompt, and participants have to use that words in a story of 33 to 333 words. And the word has to be used with the third given definition. The word for the last one was CRACK.
The chip stood out, in all its laughable glory. She’d bury us alive for this.
Knowing she had only twelve months, she’d spent the time upgrading her body. Sucking from here, injecting there, her obsession knew no bounds…
Click here to read the rest. And don’t forget to comment!
100 Word Story: Mommy First
I post a new 100 word story on my Alicia Audrey blog every week. They are based on prompts posted at Julia’s Place. If you haven’t already, please hop on over and read this week’s story. Read, comment, and share!