Welcome back to the Flash Fiction Writing Challenge! If you haven’t already, you should check out our intro post for more details. The basics are:
- Pick one of the two image prompts below. (Don’t read my stories or anyone else’s until you’ve written yours!)
- Write an Everyday Vignette (200 words or less) or a Flash Fiction (300-500 words, or up to 1000, if you’re feeling ambitious).
- Post your story in the comments on this post and check out the stories others have written. Optional: Don’t forget to go to the artist’s deviantArt page (just click on the image) and give them a shout-out to let them know that their piece inspired you.
If you write a short story every day this week, you win! What do you win? Respect from your fellow writers, and we might have a little goody for you at the end of the week.
Flash Fiction, Day 6
I guess I kind of lied. I went a little Halloween with the second picture after all.
It was just begging for that kind of story, though, in my opinion. It wasn’t as far out of my wheelhouse as I could have taken it, and there are a lot of different directions you can take that prompt.
When I picked these picture prompts, I though the driftwood one would be really easy to write. It’s just so provocative and ambiguous. But when I sat down to write it, I drew a blank. I had to look at it for a while before I came up with anything worthwhile. It definitely isn’t my best work, but do you know what? It doesn’t really matter, luckily! This challenge isn’t about churning out masterpieces. It’s about establishing a habit of creative writing and exercising your creative muscles. When you get into a creative mindset, you’ll be able to create more and more. That’s what’s so great about the Flash Fiction Writing Challenge and NaNoWriMo!
Do you get discouraged when you feel like you don’t produce something great? Or does it spur you on to create more and better work?
There is so much more out there. Beyond the horizon, there’s a whole other world.
Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing here. Because no one else on this side of the world sees the things I do. I’m sitting on dragon bones, but the rest of the world sees driftwood. I see fairies and everyone else sees fireflies. Is there something wrong with me, or something wrong with them? Does the world on the other side of the horizon see things the way I do?
The House. On the other side of the graveyard, it stood watch over the dead. As far as anyone knew, no one had lived there for nearly fifty years. Yet every night, at precisely eight ‘o clock, the lights began to flicker on, starting at one end of the house and slowly moving to the other. There was no shadow, no silhouette to betray the lamp lighter.
It had to be haunted. There was no other explanation. The dead still inhabited the house, leaving their immortal beds to dance once more in the great halls. In daylight, children dared each other to retrieve things from the house. Nothing ever seemed amiss under the sun, but the moon held a different sway.
One night, the lights did not begin to flicker on. Nor the next night nor the one after. It wasn’t until years later that we would find the devoted butler, who died in his sleep, and wonder what magic he possessed to have given no shadow or inkling to his presence in that house every night.