“When I grow up I want to be an astronaut!
I want to go up in the sky, travel the universe and make friends from out of this world.
They’ll be fun, with their green skin, long antennae and several eyes.
Or else, or else…
Their loooooooong skinny body and big head with 2 black eyes.
Or else, or else…
Their slimy grayish and gross slug-like shape
Or else, or else…”
“How about with their proportional body, brown eyes and blond curly hair?”
“Yes! That one too!
Wait!… That sounds like my friend Kevin.
Oh…… Is he an alien too????”
This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #1.
The rules for contest #1 was that we tried to go back in time to when we were 6 years old and remember what we wanted to be when we grew up. The size of the text should be of 100 words only.
To be honest, when I was little, I actually wanted to be a dressmaker, then later I switched to either tennis of volleyball player.
So no, I never really wanted to be an astronaut, but I had friends who did, so I used their ambition rather than mine, since it seemed cooler… ;o)
The results for the contest were published yesterday, and the winner was Hugh Roberts, with and awesome entry of a boy who wants to be Santa. See here the winner’s announcement post with his entry and some other picks.
Congrats Hugh! And well done everyone!
Perfect? Heck no! I am not!
This post was written in response to the Sometimes Stellar Storyteller Six Word Story Challenge: Perfection.
If you like it, you can vote for me on the comments of her site. ;o)
Picture from Pixabay.com
When he was still on diapers, he drew his first squiggly line.
A wind blew and a piece of colored yarn flew squiggling past him.
As a toddler, he would draw clouds, and the wind would bring some clouds to an otherwise clear sky.
As a kid, he would draw cars, and his parents never understood how come he had so many toy cars.
Then, at age 13, he started to draw monsters.
Family and friends from school or the neighborhood were suddenly disappearing from earth.
He was always spared, as he was the beasts creator…
This post was written in response to the March 9: Flash Fiction Challenge, hosted by Carrot Ranch. The idea is to write a story with exactly 99 words, no more, no less, around the prompt word. This week the word is Monster.
He lives in the streets. No mom. No dad. Steals food to survive, but doesn’t like it. The other boys are bad. He doesn’t want to be bad.
He learns how to read from a homeless sir he befriended.
He would read anything and everything. His dream is to attend school.
He asks the mailman to give him some leftover pamphlets to read, and receives even more.
The mailman talks to the people in the neighborhood who start to donate books to the boy.
He’s still homeless, but now the pushes a cart around with his own personal library.
This post was written in response to the March 2: Flash Fiction Challenge, hosted by Carrot Ranch. The idea is to write a story with exactly 99 words, no more, no less, around the prompt word. This week the word is Library.
My story was inspired by (although not true to) the story of the Utah boy, who received thousands of books after the mailman in his apartment complex decided to post an ask in facebook for people to send books to the boy, who wanted to read but had no books at home.
Picture was taken from pixabay.com.
Arrived ring-less, after not answering phone.
This post was written in response to the Sometimes Stellar Storyteller Six Word Story Challenge, with prompt word SUSPICION.
This is based on a real story, where the suspicion did not confirm and the subject was not guilt. That was actually me.
I lost weight and my wedding ring became too lose.
On a Winter day, while unpacking groceries from the reusable bag, the ring felt into the bag and I didn’t even notice.
A few days later (not sure how many, as I don’t remember when I lost it) I finally realize I don’t have my ring, and decide to go search for it on the trail I had walked on that day, assuming I lost it during the walk early on that same day.
But it was dark already, so I used my phone as a flashlight until it ran out of batteries and lost track of the time.
I got late at home.
My husband had tried to call me to no avail (no batteries on phone!).
My finger had no ring…….
The look on my husband’s face was not the one I remember most fondly.
I searched everywhere like crazy for the next week.
Then one day, using the reusable bag again, I found it laying there at the bottom.
They lived in an isolated island. The rest of the world was very close, though, separated from their island by a narrow canal. In years past, some tried crossing the canal to the other side, but were swallowed alive by the sea creatures that populate the passage.
But it hasn’t been like this forever. Legend says that in years long gone the water was safe and the tide was low enough that passage between the lands was possible every day. But for many generations none of them have ever seen anything like that.
They tried bridges and boats, but nothing would survive the water.
One day the tide goes low again and they can see the legendary walkaway linking both pieces of land. They cross together, into the city, all happiness.
But at the last minute, she decides that the island is her home and turns her back to her fellow islanders. She stands there, frozen, deciding if her decision was right. Only a few minutes away from becoming the only inhabitant of the island…
This post was written in response to the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, with a photo prompt by TJ Paris.
To check other stories inspired by the same prompt, click the blur frog below:
We’re not sinners. The priest was!
This post was written in response to this week’s Sometimes Stellar Storyteller Six Word Story Challenge , with the prompt Sin.
Writing a story in only 6 words sometimes is really hard. This week I wanted to tell a real story. The story of my own wedding.
I guess I managed to tell the essence of it, although it’s not at all clear what the story is about, other than that the sin was the priest’s, not ours.
We were planning our wedding and hired a priest to come to my mom’s place to celebrate the wedding.
We trusted him, in spite of some red flags that we could have identified during the process.
Then about a year later, it was in the news that he wasn’t a priest anymore, since 5+ years before, exonerated by the church due to child molestation history.
Then he left the city where it all happened, came to my city and played nice.
In spite of the story becoming public about 14 years ago, he’s still performing weddings and baptisms in the same city! Talk about impunity….
But anyways, after the story came out, family was insisting that we needed to re-marry, otherwise we would be living ‘in sin’. Our argument not to is the six word story above.
The sin is his, not ours…. (hey, 6 words again! ;o)