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.

Don’t be silly

Mondays finish the story

link to post:

  https://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/2015/07/06/mondays-finish-the-story-july-6th-2015/

Mondays Finish the Story

Finish the story begins with:  “The barista shook his head. That hedge couldn’t have moved closer overnight. Could it?”

And a special thanks to dralimanonlife for the opening line!

————————————————————————————————-

Don’t be silly

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

The barista shook his head. That hedge couldn’t have moved closer overnight. Could it?

The tapping of fingers against the counter brought him back. He pushed the latte toward the elf, who flicked her golden hair back as she left.

He turned to the window again. “Tink,” Big called. A child sized green fairy emerged from the back. “Take over a minute, will ya?”

The next preppy-elf stepped up to order. Big pressed himself against the window.

“What are you doing, Bigfoot?” Peter asked.

“Those hedge people are moving closer every night.”

“Don’t be silly,” he said, also pressing himself against the glass. “How could they move?”

Big shrugged. “I don’t know. Magic?”

The coffeehouse roared in laughter. Peter patted his big, hairy shoulder. “Don’t be silly! You know we don’t believe in magic.”

Outside the hedge family stopped rolling on the grass from laughter, and went back to their positions.

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