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Here is a simple image — or is it? Will this challenge inspire or frustrate you? Let your story be unexpected and post it in the comments. No shirking now, come story with us.
I’ll start with a story …
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Moving swiftly through the streets, a grey mist swirls around her, her cloak a match of color, darksilver threaded to blind the leader’s watchers to her passage. She dips into her pouch, dropping another folded crane along her way.
She knows they watch, raging anger at her actions of defiance, their fear at their failed attempts to stop her. Yet she doesn’t do this for the sheep in restless sleep behind bolted doors.
This is hers, a declaration.
The pouch empty, she leaves the town; turning, stretching out her hands, feeling the shift within.
1,000 cranes burst into flame.
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Now, it is your turn.
nicole b. says: lost in the dark woods, she didn’t know where to go.. she had been walking for what felt like hours and was really scared and confused.. how did i get here? what day is it?.. she decided to rest. she woke to the sun shining on her face through the trees. she walked some more and the trees opened up to a road, that fortunately she recognized. She was only yards from her house.. that’s when she gained consciousness & realized, oops i did it again.. Sleepwalking in the night !!
[…] via Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge — Victory Girls Blog […]
I know by the shapes of which I am compose that my body is no accident of untammed forces. Rather that I am a creation, an intentional act of will, formed and informed for some purpose that I do not know. The bold color of my surface marks me out from the subtitler tones of the world around me. I look upon my reflection and contemplate these mysteries even as I absorb the waters that will engulf and destroy me. In this time I exist and hope that it all meant something.
Wyldkat says: Very nice. I like the idea of coming from the crane’s pov. 🙂
GWB says: Concur
Andrew says: Up with the sun and out to the lake. He sat on a damp rock and wrote her a love letter. The simple truth, detailed and in tiny script, even the most embarrassing parts: “all I really wanted was to wallow at your feet and roll in ecstasy.”
He suspected that that last part was the reason she dumped him.
He even wrote about the nights he cried since she ripped out his heart and left it on the road by the passenger seat.
He folded the whole thing up into an elegant origami bird.
Let the lake destroy it whole.
GWB says: Excellent.
Jennifer S says: Before today, I was just a sheet of paper. Ready to be molded into something great. Carefully crafted into this figure of shape.
I hear loud little voices chattering about.
A school bell rings. I travel inside a dark place with books, pencils and a half eaten lunch.
I emerge from the darkness and land softy below. Now, I float here in the water. Here I am, bright and steady. The air is crisp and fresh. Water below is flourished with green and moving life. The wind moves me gently along, I’m at peace.
Where will the water bring me?
Dave says: While her mother talked, her grandfather pulled a piece of paper from his coat and began to fold. Watching him, her mother smiled but continued to talk about the new worlds.
Clair enjoyed hearing about the new worlds, but what her grandfather was doing with the paper intrigued her more. A story was forming in his hands and she couldn’t look away. When done, her grandfather carefully inspected the bird, winked at her, then leaned over and placed it in the fountain.
Her mother, quiet now, reached over and held her grandfather’s hands, then quietly said, “I’ll get more coffee.”
Peaceful but perplexed with thoughts of my beginning, dimmer now but memory of bamboo fibres seems reminiscent and water, chemicals, heat, high pressure, bleach and my present color, severe pounding, squeezing. beating and endless passage through rolling presses and finally the drying cylinders purging me of all original water. Then reels, smoothing, compacting and subjected to calendars and my final finish and done. I was not and not alone, we were cut to size to become useful in the hands of others. Ironic that I am folded, formed, a beautiful aquatic bird, slowly dissolving into the water of my birth.
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