My Weekly Writing Challenge

My challenge for you this week is to write a story or poem on one of the following themes:

  • The storm
  • Blood
  • Jealousy
  • Nighttime
  • Reflections
  • Time travel
  • Love
  • Nature

Jane Basil wasn’t able to use the internet when I set my alliteration challenge two weeks ago. She said ‘I was disappointed to miss your challenge, because it was the kind of thing I love to do. I had a go at it even though I couldn’t post it. I may have got a bit carried away – again! This is what I came up with.’ Please take a look. It’s brilliant.
https://janebasilblog.wordpress.com/2015/07/18/fun-with-alliteration/

Now into the results of last week’s challenge. You were set the task of writing a ten-word story, which had to feature five words from the following list:

  • Popsicle
  • Hot
  • Queen
  • Codswallop
  • Flip-flop
  • Splash
  • Snotty
  • Flummoxed
  • Nincompoop
  • Jail

Jane Basil made sure she didn’t miss this challenge:

Flummoxed, the nincompoop queen licks flip flop, foot in popsicle.

Jane also wrote a fantastic fifteen-word story using all ten words:

Hot day. Snotty nincompoop throws flip-flop seawards. Splash! Flummoxed queen drops popsickle. Demands jail. Codswallop!

Stepheny Houghtlin sent in an amusing one:

The flummoxed, snotty queen wore flip flops off to jail.

Geoff Le Pard always makes me laugh out loud:

‘Nincompop,’ she said, as my hot snotty splashed her flipflop.

Fiona Trowbridge sent in a clever story:

Popsicle was flummoxed but Flip-flop saw Nincompoop graffiti the jail.

Richard Nicholson‘s story is a witty one:

The Queen thought the snotty popsicle licking nincompoop seemed flummoxed.

Sacha Black is very busy but managed to squeeze one in:

“Jail the snotty nincompoop,” roared Queeny, flummoxed by his codswallop.

***

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13 Responses to My Weekly Writing Challenge

  1. somewords4u says:

    Hello Mrs Esther. Nice options to choose from! Here are mine :

    REFLECTIONS:

    WHICH STEPS TO FOLLOW
    I see many directions ahead.
    Some in straight lines,
    others in twisted ones.
    I can see imprints of steps
    But they fade out at some distance.
    So how to judge
    which one will lead
    to where I want to be.
    Are straight lines better than twisted ones?
    Do straight lines mean determination?
    Do twisted lines mean escapism?
    Or do straight lines mean compulsion?
    And do twisted lines mean emancipation?
    What if I follow the straight lines and they become twisted ahead?
    Or what if I follow the twisted ones and they straighten ahead?
    Whom will I blame for any unexpected change?
    Or should I blame no soul
    Coz the choice was open.
    Or should I choose none?
    Perhaps I should better
    create a new line with a new pattern
    coz I can see there is always enough space
    for a new design.

    NIGHT TIME:

    DO STARS STARE:

    The deep dark background
    bearing the tiny shinning spots
    spreading till the limit of vision
    twinkling with oscillating brightness
    at times some more radiant
    at times the others
    as if seeking the attention
    of the contemplating eyes
    on a night of fantasy
    when standing by the window.
    In cluster here
    or lying lonely there
    whichever way they present
    yet equally eager to get noticed
    then glimmering even more
    whenever upon them eyes are laid.
    Decking up an enlivening the black veil
    and wanting to be a delight
    for their embellishing nature
    offering to the admiring eyes
    the marvelous vista
    of a dark but splendid canopy.
    It seems as if they do
    in anticipation of distinguished observance
    but at us,
    do the stars stare?

    JEALOUSY:
    REGRET REMAINS
    The circles evolving in the water stopped. Janice had a clearer image of herself. But the expressions she was offered was not what she waiting for. She raised her gaze then observed the image again. It did not change.

    “Why are you making such a face? You got what you wanted?”

    But there could be no reply. She was talking to herself after all. Janice was confused between guilt, jealously or pity for herself.

    Janice and her family had been to the graduation ceremony of her younger sister. It was a matter of pride indeed . She could see the glowing faces of her parents and grandparents when her sister was being honored. She was happy too. Yet deep within she was uncomfortable.

    “You are jealous. That’s it!” The allegation was burden-like.

    “No. I can’t be jealous of my own sister.”

    “Really ? Then why are you here and not sharing the happy moments of your own ones.”

    “It’s just….”

    “See! You have no words.”

    Janice knew her image was right. She was jealous for not being the one to get the praises, for not being the pride of the parents. But things could neither be that wise. It was already late.

    Janice was in her mid secondary education when she decided to stop her further studies. Her teens had been very difficult for her family to handle. Most of the time she would keep away from her parents and sister. Any interference on their behalf would made her wild. They felt compelled to the extent of agreeing for nearly all she would say and demand. Her lavish expenses were unbearable.

    Once she asked for such a raise in her pocket money justifying that she felt inferior to her friends who wore much more expensive outfits and designer accessories. Her father infuriated decided to reduce her pocket money to half the amount. However her immature reasoning was far from the level of understanding, leading to her drastic decision of taking up a job. She thought being self dependent would give her the lifestyle she wanted.

    Her coquettish attitudes being a plus, Janice was appointed as assistant in the salon she frequented. Her parents faced much disappointment and obligation to yield to her stupidity fearing she would take drastic steps.

    Gradually as years elapsed, her younger sister grew up scoring good results at school. She came out first in her final exams and was awarded a grant for her tertiary education. And after five years she got her graduation certificate.

    “You could have been somebody else rather than a hairdresser.” She carried the guilt and acknowledged deserving the sarcastic taunts of her own self.

    “My immaturity had cost so many years of my life wasted and also the coming years would seem like wasted. Because perhaps they could have been better, if only……”

    LOVE:

    THE MAGIC OF LOVE

    The edge was sharp. She had to walk upon. She knew the pain would be hard to bear. But it had to be that way. Life was to give to her only the best in everything and for Lisa, nothing was nor should ever be the other way. That was it.
    It was nearly dusk. The fading brightness of the sky reflected her state of mind. The stillness in the air made her realize she brought the same in her father’s life since the death of her mother. It was the only thing she had no power to fuss over. And then the result of years of immature behavior had cost the same in solitude to her father.
    Peeping through the window of her room, Lisa saw her father coming. She saw him, then observed and noticed what she did not all these years. He was alone. There had never been any companion to sit beside him whenever he would be out. She understood how her selfish ego had taken away even the very last possibility of happiness in her father’s life. She knew her happiness was everything for him, the reason for which he stepped back whenever he was given a hand. But it was enough.
    Lisa opened the door on the very first bell.
    ‘Dad I need to tell you something.’
    But she felt the same impulsive behavior empowering her again and she had to fought it. She needed time, for herself and for them.
    ‘Let me in first dear. Ok. Tell me.’
    ‘Not here. Let’s go somewhere for dinner.’
    ‘Hm! That’s going to be really serious I sensed.’ He gave her a wink, then smiled.
    ‘ Let’s go, sweetheart. Anything for you, anytime.’

    So much love deepened her guilt. She smiled back then gulped hard. She knew what would remain afterwards. Meanwhile she had to prepare her confession with both of them before her. Her trembling fingers dialed the number. And she got no time to gather her words when Diana answered on the second beep.
    ‘Hello!’
    Diana had not bother to see the caller ID but that voice seemed familiar despite they met only a few times without much interaction.
    ‘Lisa?’ Diana had no guess why she called her. It was nearly six months she met them last. Diana still remembered the confused feelings she had for Lisa’s father. His gallant behavior showed his interest and Diana kept waiting for an official proposal. But everything winded up without conclusion . She was left wondering what it was, it was or not. Lisa finally persuaded Diana for their meeting in a restaurant nearby without telling the reason behind.
    Sitting at a table away from the crowd, Diana remembered it was there she first met Lisa’s father. Then her flashback broke when she spotted the two of them. Diana ignored Lisa would be accompanied.
    ‘That lady over there, isn’t she Diana? I believed she was not here.’ Lisa father was uncomfortable.
    ‘Let’s go Dad.’ Lisa grabbed his hands and led him to the table where Diana was sitting.
    Their glances exchanges. Lisa noticed their faces glowing. But they were trying to mask their expression thinking their feelings was one -sided.
    ‘Good evening Diana. How are you?’ He handed her a hand to break the tensed atmosphere. ‘Are you back?’
    Diana frown at his surprise. ‘Sorry? I am back? I don’t understand. Where did I go?’
    ‘You…..’
    Lisa did not let his father complete his words. ‘Ok Dad. I’ll tell. That letter, I wrote it. I mean I asked a friend of mine, because you know my handwriting.’
    ‘What?’ He was confused.
    ‘What letter?’ Diana was lost too.
    ‘I knew you loved each other. But I was unable to share my father’s love with anybody else. I was his focus since mama died. And I feared to share this. I know I’ve been stupid. But now I realize what it means to be loved. If only you would forgive me Dad. I am ashamed for what I did. I just want to be happy and for now enjoy this moment with one another. Have a nice time. I’ll wait for you at home. Then whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen.’ And she went away.
    When Lisa’s father recounted to Diana what had happened, she felt sad for her. Any hard feeling trying its way was soon lost against her maturity. Diana’s love for Lisa’s father and the wish for a family were much more important than the childish act of Lisa. And they were both proud that Lisa had the courage to tell the truth and more than that, she really cared for them.
    When the door bell rang again, Lisa was not anticipating the same smile she got earlier. She opened the door with head bowed.
    ‘Lisa.’ Diana was facing her. ‘ I just want to tell you that I never was nor ever will come between the love of a father and a daughter. I just want to ask you a little of all the love you both have. Can you give me that dear?’
    Lisa was crying. Diana too.
    ‘Hey! Hello! The dinner will get cold! And I won’t forgive both of you for that. Ok!’
    And then life echoed, with laughter and happiness.

  2. Take a look at http://channing.info/wp/2015/07/23/its-about-time-two/
    You may find something to your (dis)liking..

  3. JasonMoody77 says:

    Here we go. I’ve missed this blog!

    I can see much clearer now, as my misted mind has cleared.
    When finally the circus left, and all I had were tears.

    My dear old Mum, God rest her soul, would often say to me.
    Seek not my dear what you don’t have,
    Be thankful, let it be.

    When Julie Brown was new at work, I remember that first day.
    When all about did blush and coo
    Whereas I had nowt to say.

    A day, a week, a month went by,
    She was the office darling.
    And now she’s set her sites on him,
    Not the gorgeous Stuart Starling.

    I was waiting until Christmas,
    It was then I’d make my move
    What’s she got that I ain’t got?
    Like I had owt to prove.

    It started with an evil look,
    But soon would escalate
    Before I knew, what I had done
    I’m afraid it was too late.

    Jealousy is a terrible thing
    And revenge best not deployed,
    I tell you of this sorry take
    In my flat, alone, unemployed.

  4. JasonMoody77 says:

    Fog? I meant dog. 😄

  5. Riley Reed says:

    Hello Esther, thought I’d share a storm scene excerpt from a work in progress. Hope you enjoy it.

    https://rileyreedauthor.wordpress.com/2015/07/25/the-storm/

  6. Hi Esther. Things have been a bit hectic recently, but here, finally, is my speedily composed effort on Reflections.
    https://janebasilblog.wordpress.com/2015/07/30/reflections/

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