The Solid Chair

I was googling around for a short story prompt generator or something like it. I thought I would just find a random prompt to use to write some short stories to get to know my characters more. I’m gearing up for NaNoWriMo this year after taking a break and I think I’ve finally decided on a set of characters that I’d like to write about. And so, google provided, and I came across something very interesting that I would like to share with you all.

You fill in what the generator asks and it will generate a short story to laugh at and enjoy.

https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/story/

Here is the story that the generator came up with:


The Solid Chair

A Short Story
by writercookie

Evie was thinking about Magnus again. Magnus was a modest mountain with big hands and tall hair.

Evie walked over to the window and reflected on her serene surroundings. She had always loved calm Narva with its round, ripe rivers. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel nervous.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a modest figure of Magnus .

Evie gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was an articulate, smart, wine drinker with hairy hands and petite hair. Her friends saw her as a bitter, blushing bird. Once, she had even saved a beautiful baby that was stuck in a drain.

But not even an articulate person who had once saved a beautiful baby that was stuck in a drain, was prepared for what Magnus had in store today.

The sun shone like dancing deer, making Evie relaxed. Evie grabbed a solid chair that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.

As Evie stepped outside and Magnus came closer, she could see the handsome glint in his eye.

Magnus gazed with the affection of 1173 generous huge horses. He said, in hushed tones, “I love you and I want to talk.”

Evie looked back, even more relaxed and still fingering the solid chair. “Magnus, don’t tell everyone what happened,” she replied.

They looked at each other with happy feelings, like two courageous, calm cats walking at a very sweet dance, which had quartet music playing in the background and two kind uncles chatting to the beat.

Evie regarded Magnus’s big hands and tall hair. “I feel the same way!” revealed Evie with a delighted grin.

Magnus looked concerned, his emotions blushing like a tiny, thirsty table.

Then Magnus came inside for a nice glass of wine.

THE END

—————————————————————————————————————————————–

Auto Praise for The Solid Chair

“I feel like I know Evie . In a way, it feels as though I’ve always known her.”
– The Daily Tale
“About as enjoyable as being hailed on whilst taking in washing that has been targeted by seagulls with the squits.”
– Enid Kibbler
“Saying the sun shone like dancing deer is just the kind of literary device that makes this brilliant.”
– Hit the Spoof
“I could do better.”
– Zob Gloop
—————————————————————————————————————————————–
Lol! This tickled my unusual funny bone and made my day. I’ll have to try this out with my writer friends as soon as possible.

An experiment gone awry

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

This week’s photo prompt is provided by artycaptures.wordpress.com.


An experiment gone awry

Molly always had trouble sleeping. She got into the habit of browsing online when she couldn’t rest, and more recently scrolling through Buzzfeed to do pointless quizzes until she was tired enough to try and sleep again.

One night she stumbled upon an interesting article. Inspired, she jotted down the ingredients and their measurements for a mug cake. It was time for experimenting.

Her roommate, an unnecessarily uptight teacher with a secret love of baking, was luckily asleep on the couch. Molly closed the kitchen’s door. Hopefully Blair wouldn’t notice anything missing. She was always so observant.

She mixed it all together, excited to taste the chocolate treat the recipe promised. Three minutes later, Molly opened the microwave’s door and was horrified.

It looked nothing like the pictures! She must have gotten something wrong. With a cloth, she took out the mug with its overflowing lave-like chocolate mix. Molly got a fright as Blair’s dishevelled form stood behind her.

“My foot!”

“Blair! I’m so sorry.”

It was a funny story to tell the ER nurses.


(175 words)

I had trouble with the word limit on this one. It was such a fun prompt!

Out for a walk

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Footy and Foodie.


Out for a walk

John whistled to Oliver to slow down, and walked toward where the dog was waiting. It was the perfect time for a few photographs, and he would be able to get the dog out for some exercise. Some walking would do them both good.

John held up his finger imagining that he was swirling the clouds as he moved it over from blue, to pink, to orange, to yellow where the sun was setting. He put down his hand to pick up his old camera that was held together with strategically placed duct tape and rubber bands. Brenda always knew how to fix things.

Oliver waited by one of the cars. It was time to go home. It would get dark soon. John looked down at the photo he had just taken. He stopped.

Was that-? He shook his head. What was that on the screen? It couldn’t be.

Oliver barked, urging him to hurry up. It was almost dinner time.

John scratched at his head beneath his hat. “Is that a woman?” he asked himself. On the screen sure enough was a figure in the clouds. “Flying?!”

He put his camera away and grabbed Oliver by the collar to hurry home.

Brenda wasn’t going to believe this.

 


(208 words)

Furry hero

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Week of 06-06 through 06-12-2017

Prompt provided by Pamela S. Canepa.


Furry Hero 

Getting lost was easy. There were only trees, and more trees, and more trees around me. And behind me. And in front of me.

I found a large rock to stand on, hoping that it would give me a vantage point to find civilization again. I managed one leg over the edge and struggled for some time to pull the rest of myself up onto it. Should have used my gym membership a bit more. Breathless, I did a power stance with my hands on my hips. It’s good to feel confident even when you feel like crying.

I did what I always did best; I yelled and screamed.

A very hairy hand came up from behind and clamped my mouth shut. I closed my eyes, thankful. I turned to face my hero. I gasped, it held out it’s paw to me.

It had to be a male bear. His cave was dishevelled, his bed unmade, dishes waiting in the sink.

He called the police. I got ice cream on my way home.

Crap. I hope the others are okay.


(180 words)

I was feeling silly. Obviously, you’d yell if a bear put it’s paw on your face.

30 Day writing challenge: The last stretch

The idea is to write 150-200 words a day for each prompt and to post it on this blog. At the end of the month, I’ll post the list of prompts if anyone is interested.

Prompt 27: I am way too sober for this. Prompt 28: The bone crunched. Prompt 29: You knew? Prompt 30: I killed it. 


I am way too sober for this, like uncle Jerry always says. It was me against the spider. A very unwelcome guest in my bedroom. I had thrown a few books at him, but he dodged and dipped past every hard cover that flew towards him. It turned, it’s brow furrowing. He picked up his legs like a ninja before lunging. I slapped it to the side, hearing the bone crunch in my hand. But I was too manly to feel it. He scurried on the bed. Without a second thought, I dived on him to show him who was boss.

I threw my guest toward the door, ready to kick him out, when mom came in.

“What are you doing?” She asked. “You’re supposed to get ready for bed, Bobby.”

I pointed toward the spider. “It attacked me.”

The room changed back as mom picked up the stuffed toy. No more play time. It’s one leg was slightly torn with white stuffing coming out of the wound. “I’ll take the unwelcome guest back to the dog then,” she said.

“I killed it,” I said, getting into bed. She kissed my head and put off the light.

“Good night, sweetie.”


(200 words)

I was four days behind, and I feel so bad about it! But I hope this last story makes up for it. I will post the list of prompts soon.

30 Day writing challenge: Day 13

The idea is to write 150-200 words a day for each prompt and to post it on this blog. At the end of the month, I’ll post the list of prompts if anyone is interested.

Prompt 13: I want a new phone


I run down the hallway. I need to get to the kitchen before the light goes on. If it goes on, if it sees me. If it seems me…

My hand reaches out to the door. I close it behind me, resting my back against the cold wood. I’m out of breath. I’m sweating. A small light shines through the slit beneath the door. I bold forward, almost tripping over my slippers. The door opens behind me, creaking and groaning.

“I just want some sleep,” I yell to it. I know it won’t stop pursuing me.

I’m in the garage, and soon in my car. But I’m not safe. I lock the doors. My hands rest on the steering wheel, waiting for the garage door to open. It’s so slow.

It’s still coming.

I only see a flash of light before it throws itself against the car. I scream. The car lurches forward into the shelf spilling old boxes and dust over the window.

As I open my eyes, I can feel it in my hand. My phone it back in my hand. I cry out and fall forward onto the horn.


(192 words)

I am so behind on my own challenge! I hope everyone had an excellent Easter weekend. I’ll be updating today and tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll be on track again by the 19th and will only post once a day again.

30 Day writing challenge: Day 8

The idea is to write 150-200 words a day for each prompt and to post it on this blog. At the end of the month, I’ll post the list of prompts if anyone is interested.

Prompt 8: Chickens


Chickens. Why did dad ever bring me a box full of chicks in the first place? I know he found them next to the road and he didn’t want me to be lonely in the farmhouse. I didn’t move to the farmhouse to farm, or raise livestock. I just wanted to get away from everything and everyone. I stopped and turned to look at the small gathering of chickens that were following me.

“Go away,” I yelled. They just stared at me.

I had tried to connect with them. I took dad’s advice and gave them all names: Harriette, Elaine, Lily, Peter, Max, Eleanor. I fed them and built them a pen to live in although they managed to escape all the time to track me down.

As I tried to get away from them again, I tripped and fell onto my stomach. They all climbed on top of my back.

I sighed. Time to start my new life as a chicken whisperer.


(163 words)

Not my best, but I had to post this earlier than what I would have liked. And a headache isn’t exactly helping.

30 Day writing challenge: Day 5

The idea is to write 150-200 words a day for each prompt and to post it on this blog. At the end of the month, I’ll post the list of prompts if anyone is interested.

Prompt 5: No, you don’t.


I plopped my leg down next to my mom. “Does this make my legs look taller?”

Mom stared at me, bewildered. “What do you mean? You still look the same. Were you stretched out?”

“No,” I said, extending my right leg toward her. She grabbed my ankle. “The lady in the shop said if I wore this skirt it would make my legs seem taller and I wouldn’t look as short.”

She sat back on the couch, folding her arms. “Huh.”

“So?”

She let go of my leg. “No, you don’t.”

“I don’t what?”

“You don’t look taller. I think she lied to you.”

“It’s not working at all?” I looked down at the turquoise skirt, sighing. “It doesn’t make me look taller?”

“No, I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “That is a nice skirt, though. You look like a mermaid. You’ll be the best mermaid at the party tonight.”

“Stuck with short legs forever.”

“Well, until you die, sure.”

“Mom!”


(161 words)

I’m so tired today, I can’t even think properly.

30 Day writing challenge: Day 2

The idea is to write 150-200 words a day for each prompt and to post it on this blog. At the end of the month, I’ll post the list of prompts if anyone is interested.

Prompt 2: It looks like a baby.


It looks like a baby.

What is it doing here in the middle of nowhere? I pick it up carefully, cradling it in my arms. It wasn’t crying.

I turn my head, searching for any sign of its parents. But we were alone beneath the street lamp. I carry it back to my car. My hands are shaking. What was I going to do? I have no choice. I place it on the seat next to me. I’ll just drive slowly. We were close enough.

We get home. Max is in the kitchen waiting for the groceries to start dinner with.

“Helen? What is that?”

I present it to him, still unsure what to do with it. My breathing hitches. My stomach burns. He holds out his hands and I gently place it down. He watches me, silently.

“Helen, this is a potato.”

“I know.”

“What is wrong with you?”

He puts the potato down on the kitchen table and walks past me to get the groceries out of the car. I take a photo of the potato baby.

At least I enjoy myself.


(184 words)

http://www.foodiggity.com/girl-finds-a-potato-that-looks-like-a-baby-so-she-brought-it-home-and-dressed-it-up/

A complicated way of getting someone to the airport

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Dawn Miller for our photo prompt this week!


A complicated way of getting someone to the airport

I hated going out. There are extroverts, introverts, and then me. There is no scale for me, because I fell off of it.

I have apps for everything- food, clothes, books, etc. On Tuesdays I always ordered my favourite three-cheese pizza. When I lifted the lid to add my special ingredient (Parmesan- I like to make it a four-cheese pizza), I saw it. I picked up a piece, took a big bite of the gooey richness, and let the smell envelope me before I read it. Pizza is my one weakness.

In big, black letters it said: I poisoned the pizza. Come to the airport if you want to live.

I recognized my sister’s handwriting.

“This is a joke, right?” I asked as soon as she picked up the phone.

“Not at all, Ariel. Better get packing. I’ll see you at six.”

I threw the pizza out and got ready for bed. But my sister knew me well. Before long all I could think of was poison flowing in my veins. Around four I gave in and packed.

She waited with two tickets and a small vial filled with clear liquid. She only gave it to me once we were on the plane. It was oil. She used me against myself to go and visit her boyfriend, because she didn’t want to fly alone.

I deserved it.


(227 words) It’s a lot over the word count limit. I’m very sorry!

And I’m not sure if it’s an airport or a train station in the photo, so I just went with airport.