Well, it seems as if a story can definitely be told in only six words – you certainly showed me how with some fantastic stories. They’re all published below. Enjoy!
This week’s writing challenge was actually decided for me. On a Monday, I post an image designed to get your creative juices flowing and ideas whizzing round your mind. Barb Cvetnic saw the image and felt inspired. She sent me a wonderful poem, which prompted me to set the picture as this week’s writing challenge. Take a look at the picture and let those thoughts gather. Perhaps a poem, like Barb’s, comes to mind or maybe you have an idea for a piece of flash fiction. The choice is yours. Here the image is again:
Now for last week’s six words stories. I warn you, it’ll be hard to choose a favourite!:
Born, grew, developed. Grew old. Died.
Here lies Milo. Friend. Child. Jester.
Pillow depressed after their imaginary love.
Joel proposed. Sara accepted. “Just Married!”
U dumped. I drowned. He revived!
“Doctor who? No…I’m Doctor Jones!”
Undies,steak,candles. Doorbell? Police? Nooooo…
I love Daddy. I don’t think Mummy loves Daddy all the time, though. Mummy says I must always be in bed before Daddy gets home from work. Daddy works very hard, and he’s very tired when he gets home. Mummy says when people are very tired it’s easy to make them angry. She must be right, ‘cos when Daddy gets home he’s usually quite angry. It makes Mummy angry, too. Daddy shouts at Mummy a lot when he gets home, and Mummy shouts back. I can never hear what they are saying, though, because I hide my head under my pillow so I can’t hear the words. I know they are both angry, though.
Sometimes, I hear a bang or a hard smack noise, and Mummy starts crying. That makes me cry, too, but I mustn’t let Mummy or especially Daddy hear me crying. I told Mummy once that I heard her cry and that made me cry, but she said I mustn’t let Daddy know I heard it, or he might come into my room while he was still angry, and he might smack me for listening to his private confergation, whatever that is. So I try to be as quiet as I can.
Daddy doesn’t get tired in the day on Saturdays and Sundays, but he goes out to work in the evenings and comes back tired and angry. I don’t know why he works in the evenings though. He’s so nice in the day, Saturdays especially. He usually takes me to the park, or to the zoo, and we have a really nice time. He’s never angry, and he says that even when he is angry, he would never hurt me, because I’m his special little girl. I like being special. I wish Mummy could be special, too.
Mummy was very sad yesterday. Daddy didn’t come home from work, but some men came to see Mummy, and when they went away, she was crying really hard. I didn’t know why she was crying, though. No-one shouted and there were no bangs or smack noises.
I crept down the stairs and heard Mummy talking on the phone to Grandma. She was talking about Daddy, and I heard her say something about the main line. I didn’t know what she meant, ‘cos I’d never seen or even heard a train on the railway line that goes past our house. She said that Daddy had reached the end of the line, and cried some more. I went back to bed and cried, too.
I got up early this morning, put some clothes in my case and got my teddy. I’m going to walk down the main line all the way to the end, to see if I can find Daddy.
I love Daddy.
Wow! What an emotive piece. This gets your reader’s heart. You should try writing a short story from a child’s viewpoint. They work very well and you’ve just shown you have a talent for it. Well done 🙂
Keith’s story is beautiful and tender. May I also say that I love Steve’s 6 words…very evocative.
Thanks for the comments. It will mean a lot to Keith and Steve 🙂
Forgot to add my own strangely similar blog page 😉
Thank you. Will take a look 🙂
When the train came my mother told me to hide. I said I wanted to go with her but she said that I must hide and not come out till the train was gone. I started crying and she slapped me. My mother had never slapped me before. She dragged me by my arm to the back of the station, behind a row of bushes. I was crying loudly and she slapped me again and told me to be quiet. She was also crying when she left me.
I sat there angry at my mother and all the people who had gathered at the station. I hugged teddy and looked on through the bushes. Everyone was pushed into the train by those angry looking men. They even left their bags behind. I couldn’t see my mother but I hated her and didn’t go looking for her. The train started moving and I didn’t know what to do. Maybe my mother had also hidden. Or maybe she was on the overcrowded train, leaving me all alone.
I didn’t even want to know because I hated her so much. I hugged my teddy closer and cried. The station grew silent and I fell asleep.
When I woke up I missed my mother even though she had been mean to me. I searched the station but she wasn’t there. No one was there. I couldn’t believe she left me here and went away in that train. But I still loved her because she was my mother. I decided to just follow this track to where she’d gone in the train and find her and then she’d love me again.
Another great story, told through the child’s eyes. Your reader’s heart goes out to her. How can her mother treat her this way and not love her? At least, that’s how it feels from the child’s viewpoint. A piece which will stay with the reader for some time.
Thanks. I just wanted to ask, is it clear that the mother is on a train to a concentration camp? I thought about adding the title train to auschwitz or track to auschwitz but then I thought it would be too obvious. Is it now too ambiguous?
I always struggle with adding subtle hints in to the story without making them too obvious or ambiguous.
Don’t worry, Eddy. It’s clear that the train is taking them to somewhere like a concentration camp. The clues are all there. It’s not too ambiguous and you don’t need to fill in the gaps; you’ve got it spot on.
Grandma said there’s a wondrous train
that could go to any terrain.
Where there’s no sorrow O’ wondrous train,
will you take me there?
Where stars shine, moon smiles
and fairies sing lullabies.
Where no one dies and no one cries,
will you take me there?
I’ve taken all that’s left here,
my lone friend – teddy bear.
Where God hears my prayer,
will you take me there?
Where you took Mommy and Daddy one day,
and took Granny yesterday.
I beg of you, O’ wondrous train,
please take me there.
I felt goosebumps when I read this. Sooo emotive and it brought tears to my eyes. Strong writing, Jasdeep. Thank you so much for writing and sharing this story.
Thanks for your comments. They mean a lot to me.
The first time I left home, I managed to get to the front gate before Doreen ran out and grabbed my shoulder. I had walked out in the middle of a talking to, so I wasn’t really expecting to go very far.
The second time I made it out onto the street. She was sleeping that time and I was very, very quiet so I don’t know how she knew I was leaving.
But I didn’t plan it right, you see. I should have done it when Daddy and Doreen were at work.
The third time…
I made it to the train station, only the man with the hat wouldn’t let me on the train. He said I needed a ticket. I gave him the ticket I had made myself, but he said it was no good and asked me where my mummy was. That made me very angry.
‘Well, where do you think I’m going?’ I said. I even placed my hands above my hips like the grownups do when they are being extra mean. Well, Doreen does that. Mummy never did. ‘I’m going to Mummy’s house right now!’
He shook his head very hard and made his face look cross. Then he turned to say something on his radio. But he didn’t hold my hand or anything so I just ran off. Adults can be so stupid sometimes!
Now, if I keep walking along this line I will get to mummy’s house sooner than I can count to one hundred.
Who needs a ticket anyway!
I love how you’ve told this story through the eyes of the young girl. She;s quite a character! Thank you for entering. I always enjoy reading your stories 🙂
Thanks for the Challenges,Esther. They keep me on my toes…I really need that!