Friday, May 15, 2009

Fiction Friday - Prompt III

Before I provide this weekend's prompt, I want to talk a little about the concept of story. A description, a conversation, a set of random observations, while they may be interesting, even fascinating, do not automatically qualify as a story.

In the world of fiction, to meet the definition of story, the protagonist must change in some way. In the flash story "In the Confessional," the protagonist goes from suspicion to murderous certainty. In "Better Living Through Chemistry," the protagonist progresses from a murderous irritation that blinds her to the signficance of her actions to the realization that she needs legal council.

This week, I'm going to launch a contest. The winner's entry will be published on next week's Friday Fiction post.

1) Has to be 100 words or less, including the title, if any.
2) Has to be a story as defined above.
3) Has to use the prompt (so far, everyone has done that, but I figure it's good to set boundaries).
4) Has to be posted as a comment on The Raisin Chronicles Fiction Friday post by midnight Sunday, Eastern Daylight Time.
5) First post by a given writer will be considered his or her entry (so lighten up on the publish button there, Steven G).
4) Decision of the judge is both arbitrary and final.

We'll see how this goes. If it attracts thousands of new readers and worldwide fame, I'll probably keep it. If it just pisses people off and garners hate mail, probably not.

So, without further ado, this week's prompt:

If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget....

28 comments:

darsden said...

OKay YOU know I am NOT a writer! Can I send some pictures in..LOL
Have a great Friday

Dedene said...

I'm not much of a writer, either. So I'll wait impatiently until next Friday to read the winners.
Great idea!!

Jeff said...

If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget late May in the park. The solid feel of the earth under him, the warmth of the sun pushing his skin to lobster red. The electricity flowing through him when they were together, her arms holding him so tight. His joy was such that he was sure he felt his heart burst and his soul release.

She dabbed her misty eyes and wondered what last thought had put such bliss on his face as the prison chaplain led her from the execution gallery.

Chef E said...

Freedom

If he lived to be a hundred William would never forget how the waves choked him up. ‘Mary’ was gone. He had been truly married to her forty years. As he reached up to stroke his wet overgrown beard, adjust his life vest, his heart skipped a beat. No tears visible. His livelihood had just disappeared into the depth of the cold sea. Captain Williams felt no remorse for sinking her. No, he was more afraid of being lost at sea. His family and friends will never really know. He would disappear now, and make a new life.

CDB said...

If he lived to be one hundred, he would never forget that March morning. A new couple had moved in next door, with their young toddler. The houses were far, but their docks were close.

His dock was his sanctuary. It was deserved serenity. It calmed him.

That morning, he was up early, irritated by his own restlessness. He heard the splash, his head jerking up, awakening his state of consciousness.

It was the child. Off the end of the neighboring dock.

He made it in time, pulling the wriggling child up to the surface, out of the murky dark.

CDB said...

Wow, 100 words is TOUGH. I wrote it, then bitterly had to take half of it out. (: Good challenge! Can't wait to read the others.

bernthis said...

when I am done with my journalism class which involves yet more writing, I will definitely take part in this

darkened_jade said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
darkened_jade said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
darkened_jade said...

Till Death Do Us PartIf he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the look on her face. So angry and still, it was like a marble stature capturing fury itself.

He smiled, triumphantly.

So much effort had been given over to seeing that look upon her face.

Turning his head, he took in the entire scene. He wanted to remember every detail. The blade, smeared in blood, abandoned on the floor. The body, mutilated, lying stiff in a pool of its own fluid. His ex-wife cradling the body, as her new wedding-ring shone from her finger.

Mad Texter said...

Ooohh! My creative juices are flowing. I'll see if I can come up with something so funny you'll melt into your seat. HAAHAHAH!!!

Jan said...

You are hard on us. I have just recovered from my last miserable effort and now this!!!! I will return and I will have thought of something???? I think.

HoodChick said...

Damn, I can't find time to write on my own blog and you're giving out homework?

Mad Texter said...

If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the extra poundage on his waistline did not give him leave to wear just anything anymore. He shopped for sportswear, thinking if he looked good, he would be inspired to work out.

He tried on tight fitting spandex shorts and colorful tank tops in the unflattering dressing room fluorescents. He knew he would just wow the ladies at the gym.

As the plump cashier, wearing a spandex tank top, inspected his purchases, the image of the Michelin Man popped into his mind. He thought, ‘wearing spandex really is a privilege, not a right.’ “Nevermind”, he said, and left the store empty handed.

(I went a little over on the word count, but deducted the prompt from the total count to make up for it. 100 words or less is tough, but I admit, it keeps me focused and succinct.)

Steven G said...

Foreclosure

If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the last time he saw me. I had ignored his affairs and fiscal recklessness out of self loathing because I couldn’t bear his children. So I lived a lie, with my martinis, in our penthouse overlooking Central Park…with bankers knocking. He had gambled away our marriage and our fortune, leaving nothing but my insurance policy.

When I finally found out he was sleeping with my best friend Marion, it literally put me over the edge. No, he will never forget it, because I took Marion with me.

♥ Braja said...

I don't do fiction.

See that? It was fiction. I'm learning.
:)

Frogs in my formula said...

that he accidentally slept with his sister.


Ok, I suck at this. But I can't wait to see the winner.

Jan said...

The Proposal
If he lived to be a hundred he would never forget the look on her face when he proposed marriage to the love of his life Claire. He had agonized for weeks over the ring, the restaurant, the music, the new suit he planned to wear. Everything had to be just right. He planned the food they would eat and the wine they would consume.

The moment he dreamed of had finally come. He looked into Claires eyes and asked her to be his wife. She laughed in his face and broke his heart.

Steven G said...

Jan,

Damn, girl.

You just broke MY HEART!!!!!!!!

nice!

sg

Sandra Leigh said...

“No Regrets”

If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the day he met Mary.

He sat alone, drinking his fourth Pabst, smoking his twentieth Marlboro of the day.

Mary walked in, looking like springtime. Her hair was the color of autumn leaves. It hung in waves to her shoulders. He knew it would smell good, like vanilla, maybe. She glanced at him, saw the beer in his hand, the cigarette smoldering. She smiled – a little regretfully, he thought – and left.

He put down his last beer, his last cigarette, and followed her. He never looked back.

Ellie Belen said...

I'm sorry I missed this one! The rules do help though. But I can't help myself so I put my story on my blog. I'll be here next Friday!

Jim Styro said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jim Styro said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jim Styro said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jim Styro said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jim Styro said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jim Styro said...

Sprint

If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the fear as he caught sight of his son.

He knew even before beginning to run, he would never reach the boy in time.

How did he get so far from the house so fast?
Straining forward, anything to go faster.

Please – let me reach him.
His son had nearly reached the busy street.

Please
The child stepped down from the curb. The first car -

God
Stopped. He snatched the boy up in his arms, gasping.

Thank you.
He was joyful, exhausted, angry. Grateful.

He never forgot.
==========================================
(100 words including title)

Jim Styro said...

Well, that looks almost the way I wanted it too. Golly, that was frustrating.
Jeanne, sorry for all the deleted comments.

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails