Last week's winner, @lellabeth, has selected this week's prompt.
Here it is:
Remember to check the rules.
Have your 100 - 200 words submitted by 12:00am Friday, June 7, US EDST.
We want anything and everything: poetry, prose, fanfic, OF.
JUST GET WRITING!
Leave your entry as a comment - include your word count, and your twitter handle if you have one.
FYI - entries that exceed (or are under) the word limits will not be considered by the judge.
@shellisthimbles
ReplyDelete179 ineligible words
---------------------
sometimes I don’t recognise
the man who sits beside me
his wrinkled hand in mine
he has grown thin and bent
his spine curving forward
no longer straight and tall
his skin is loose on his bones
which creak and break
too easily
he doesn’t smell right
and there are too many liver spots
darkening his skin
his blue eyes are dim with the milky
film of his cataracts
and his voice has turned wheezy with the years
he doesn’t hear so well anymore
he wears his pants too high
and buckles his sandals over socks
some days he gets confused
and thinks I am our daughter
or his mother
but on good days
he smiles
and I know him
and he knows me
and his lips are soft and familiar
against my wrinkled temple
and his laugh falls over me
like the sunshine
“sixty-four years,” he says proudly
“and you’re still my best girl”
“your only girl,” I say
pretending to be stern
the creases around his eyes grow deep
“my only girl,” he whispers
“my fairy princess”
you made me sad. and happy.
Delete:-) @moonlit__girl
This is just adorable. :)
DeleteWord count: 200 words, on the nose
ReplyDeleteTwitter handle: @AnnaLund2011
~~~~~~~~~
Fairy tales?
Are you kidding me? We’re so far removed from fairy tales that it’s almost corny. Fairy tales involve insta-love and happily-ever-after, unicorns dancing, and cowboys riding into setting suns, and shit like that.
While I can admit I’ve done my fair share of riding horses into setting suns, it was never romantic. It was usually after ten hours in the saddle or more, and after a full day of back breaking work.
Our story? No fairy tale.
First it was two opposing cultures, smashing into each other like freight trains; a Swedish woman with an Italian man. Oh, lord, that could have been fun to watch, if I hadn’t been stuck right smack-bang in the middle of it.
Then there was the losing of jobs, and horseback-riding crashes, and switching careers in mid-life, and losing our health again, and soul-searching, and harsh, harsh reality checking in on us. Daily.
What we have is seventeen years of hard, honest, sincere, and heart-breaking work.
We’ve earned every milli-second of happiness that we now share.
Love? Is hard, hard work.
So don’t come here and talk about fucking Fairy Tales, okay?
Oh, and I love you, by the way. Just saying.
~~~~~~~~~
oh, and i love this, by the way.
Delete@moonlit__girl
Twitter: @megan_timms
ReplyDeleteWord Count: 200 on the dot!!
“Read it again,” you rasp, your voice barely a whisper.
The night is pitch black, twinkles of brilliant white illuminating the sky. You’re reclined in the deck chair, I pull the blanket tighter around you.
You cling to my hand as you cling to the words. Words full of promise; hearts; flowers.
Words that give you hope.
“Not long now,” the doctors had said. “Make her comfortable.”
Your gaunt fingers wrap tighter around mine, your wedding ring falling loose around your fingers. Your face has lost it’s warm pink hue, the illness ravaging life from every cell in your body.
Yet your eyes sparkle like the stars above us as I continue to read.
Your breathing slows as you relax. I think you’re sleeping; I stop reading and watch the sky change, the dark fading as dawn breaks.
You startle. “Don’t stop…skip to the end…what happens?” Your breathing quickens; then slows again. I see the life draining from your face.
A single soft gurgle comes from inside the house. I incline my head in the direction of our daughter. Your eyelids flutter and your breathing halts.
“They lived happily ever after,” I whisper, a single tear sliding down my cheek.
This comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteOkay, you broke my heart.
Delete*wipes tears*
Delete<3 @moonlit__girl
@moonlit__girl
ReplyDeleteputting this one to bed at 200 words
The new librarian smiles at me.
She is young and smooth and bouncy.
I drop my books onto the counter
with a thud.
She slides them closer
turns them over
scans them with a beep
and slides them back.
Pointing to the second one
she whispers
“That one was always my favorite.”
I smile back and put the books
into my bag.
She tries again.
“Grandkids visiting this weekend?”
I shake my head.
“No, these are for me.”
The predictability of her open-mouthed-head-tilt response
makes me laugh.
She blushes, embarrassed for me or
for herself, I’m not sure.
“I’m sorry...”
Remembering what it was like to be young
I take pity and
cover her hands with mine.
“Don’t be. These books
have been my favorites
since I was six.
That was a few years ago.”
I pause, wait for her to smile
at my joke, then continue.
“Most of what I had when I was six is gone.
These books are still here.
And so am I.”
I step back from the counter,
pulling my gloves on.
Winking, I say
“Fairy tales don’t come true.
Don’t let anyone tell you differently.
But that doesn’t mean
they aren’t beautiful to read.”
Ooohhh cute!!! @megan_timms
DeleteWord count 199 via GDocs
ReplyDelete@sandyquill
= = =
“No, Mama. I can’t go. There’s monsters!” Brynna cried out, clinging to the back of the chair like the four-year-old she was. Her blue eyes were wide in her pale face as her parents pried her fingers loose and made her go with them to their car.
“You’re too old for fairy tales,” her father said.
By the time she was ten, she had been told countless times that she was too old for these stories. Fairy tales were not filled with princesses and godmothers— Brynna only saw the monsters. And she was too old for monsters, she knew, as she spent the night at her friend’s house.
No monsters came for her, but she never lost her belief in them.
“I’m too old for fairy tales,” she muttered to herself as she left her night class at the age of nineteen. Gripping her mace canister in one hand, she strode to her car with determination.
I met her just outside of a pool of light. She smelled divine to my lupine senses. Her heart raced and she dropped her mace. I nuzzled her throat and licked her there. “Hello, love. No one is too old for fairy tales.”
@femme_mal
ReplyDelete197 words
__________
“...The prince kissed the sleeping princess, who woke up and kissed him back. They declared their love for each other and lived happily ever after.”
The tiny girl hugged her grandfather. “Thank you for my story. But aren’t you too old for fairy tales, Grandpa?”
“We’re never too old for fairy tales, sweetheart. Now go with your mother.”
He eased himself out of the stiff, commercial settee and shuffled into the nearby room filled with muted regular beeping and white noise whirring.
Once blonde, her snow-white hair streamed across the pillow. The delicate nose and pouty lips he kissed for the first time as a strapping teen boy were still as lovely in repose six decades later.
Beneath unmoving parchment-like lids were the bluest eyes, like the lake before sunset. Dark tracery still framed them, her lashes lying against the faded cream of her skin. If only he could look into her calm, liquid gaze once more...
He took her cool hand in one palm as he stroked her hair with the other.
Leaning forward he pressed a kiss on her soft, familiar lips.
“Hello, princess. I still love you. Please wake me on the other side.”
@SerendipitousMC
ReplyDeleteWord count: 187
***
It was a superstore, so of course it had everything from food to riding mowers to lingerie.
We passed the book section which featured several small signs, including one that said “No one is too old for fairy tales.”
He snorted. “Not unless you’ve read them about 100 times to your kids.” He hates shopping, so he’ll pick at anything and everything. But he agreed to come with me since his mom has our daughters for the weekend, and we wanted to have as much time together as possible.
All the same, we split up for a bit to cover more ground in this retail airport hangar. We arrived home, put away the groceries, ate dinner, and I showered while he loaded the dishwasher.
He waltzed into the bedroom, preoccupied at first. Then he finally noticed me on the bed, (barely) wearing a bright red, brand-new teddy.
A few extra minutes shopping alone today was definitely worth that look on his face. Shock first, and then...hunger.
“I’m Little Red Riding Hood, and I’m looking for my big bad wolf,” I purred. “Still too old for fairy tales?”
@QuinnSkylark
ReplyDeleteWords: 142
I float through the starry night sky,
To a land of ogres and giants,
Of kings and queens.
This place is one where a little girl’s dream
Morphs and spins and weaves
Into a grown woman’s fantasy.
At the first touch of the surface
Of a shining, silver cloud,
My back sprouts wings and I no longer need
Pixie dust to fly.
Now, I do not float aimlessly above the trees,
No, I flit down to earth
Down to touch my little pink slippers to the dirt.
But this is not just any dirt.
This is the stuff of magic;
It grows vast bean sprouts and talking flowers.
It allows a home for all that is
Wild and crazy and wonderful and perfect.
Here, in this fairytale realm,
Two worlds collide.
One, in my waking reality,
And one
In my nightly dreams.
@MavenPhotos
ReplyDelete200 words
I peed on the stick. I set it on the counter. I waited. The seconds seemed to stand still while the little indicator was flashing.
I can’t stand the wait any longer, so I decide to paint my toenails.
Hot pink. Perfect for summer.
As I’m painting and waiting for the test results to show up, I buzz through a thousand thoughts. My husband, who has been so wonderful through this whole process of fertility treatments, really has been my night in shining armor.
Even though sticking me with a needle made him feel faint, he did it. When the drugs made me sick, he brought me soup - and a trash can to hurl into. He has never ceased to stand by my side during this journey for us to become parents.
I glance up, and the results are on the stick.
Pregnant.
My heart leaps and I gasp.
I grab the test and sprint out of the sliding glass door that opens to the back yard. My hubby is taking a break from mowing the lawn.
“Honey. We did it,” I scream as I leap into his arms.
I couldn’t care less that my paint job is ruined.
@Twilightladies1
ReplyDeleteWord Count - 144
Our day is finally here.
My best friend who I loved from afar.
It took me years to gain the courage to tell you how I felt. You always seemed so out of my league.
When you told me you loved me as well it was the happiest day of my life.
Until today.
When you become mine officially.
Our closest friends and family are here – it’s what you wanted. No fuss, just something small and intimate.
My heart pounds ferociously as I wait for your arrival.
My brother speaks as he waits next to me and the guests murmur quietly between themselves but I don’t hear any of it. I’m only focused on you.
Eventually the murmurs dispel and the music begins.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to watch you walking towards me.
A breath-taking vision in white.
My very own fairy-tale.
Love love love this soooo much!!!!
Delete@TiramiSue84
ReplyDeleteWord count: 199
------
I'm watching,
biting down on the inside of my cheek.
Seeing you sitting there
on that big, black couch
surrounded by cushions about the size of yourself,
kicking your little legs.
You're fingertips are tapping,
the stack of plastic cases in your lap.
You're adorable in your excitement;
just like your father was
when he was your age.
“Nana, c'mon! We've been waiting here forever!”
A chuckle escapes my lips.
“I'm here, my sweet, I'm here.”
From my hiding spot in the hallway,
I make my way over to you darlings.
Placing the plate of giant cookies
on the coffee table,
I accept your first pick,
insert the disc and then start the player.
After pushing a few buttons on the remote,
the screen changes, and it's there:
the well-known melody heard a hundred times,
the design of the prominent fairy castle, however
was changed over the years.
It's been years, decades maybe,
and I'm giddy.
More so than I probably should
considering my age, but I can't help it.
Memories of a childhood long passed
flicker across my mind.
The movie starts, showing the first scene
of a beloved story, and you smile.
So do I.
i smiled too :-)
Delete@moonlit__girl
@GeekChic12FF
ReplyDeleteWord count: 200
Being stuck in a loveless marriage can leave you empty. You tell yourself that fairy tales aren’t real. That this is how life is meant to be. Hard and relentless.
Year after year, it chips away a little bit more at your soul until you’re just a shell of the person you used to be.
But when you finally find the courage to end it, you start to come alive again.
It happens slowly. Bit by bit. Little sparks of life here and there.
And then, if you’re lucky...an explosion.
I never thought I’d give away my heart again.
But the day he walked into my little shop, hints of gray in his auburn hair and intense green eyes, I felt something twist and tingle deep in my belly. Something I hadn’t felt in decades.
I still get that feeling every time he comes home from work and doesn’t do anything else before he’s given me a kiss.
Every time he comes through for me where I’ve been let down so many times before.
Every time he calls me his princess.
Fairy tales can be real. You just have to find that one person who makes yours come to life.
@MazzyStarla
ReplyDeleteWord Count: 200
Once upon a time, in a faraway land, lived the happiest fairy, with hair white as sand.
The fairy danced along in the crisp cool night. She found a troubled boy, whose heart wasn't right.
"Dear young one," she said. Her wings fluttered about. "Please tell me why your face is in a pout."
“There was this girl. She owned my heart.
“And now it’s been ripped and torn apart.
“Her name was Rae. She was my sun.
“Without her all my light is done.
“I feel so broken. I feel all wrong.
“She left me alone. She left me. She’s gone.”
"This girl of yours, I know her well," said the fairy like a wind-chime bell. "She made a wish. A wish for you. She said you were her dream come true. Now close your eyes, and do not dwell. Picture her with you. Alive not frail.”
Though tears fell as he saw his sweet love, he knew she was now an angel above.
Then the happiest fairy flew up to the sky, turning around with a wave and a goodbye.
She zoomed around leaving a glittery trail. She made the boy happy by way of a fairy tale.
This is just gorgeous <3
Delete@ordinary_vamp
ReplyDelete199 words
~:~
Twilight is for preparation.
Pyjamas, de-monstering the room
And story choices.
fairies, wizards, knights and dragons--
We spend our night with our heads
Amongst the clouds and the moon,
Amidst the mystical.
Nighttime is for fairy tales.
The stars are the light I read by.
Your breath leads my rhythm.
Nighttime is for close-cuddles
And full-body flannel hugs.
Together, we lay and read.
In the beginning it was with large letters
And even bigger pictures.
You matched words and images,
Your pride contagious with every
Correct pair.
As you grew older the pictures grew smaller
Until we did not read together anymore.
And now, we start again.
I ignore the plastic bed rails meant to protect you.
Instead, I become your safeguard,
The red panic button resting heavy in my lap.
Your body is cold as you lean against me,
Wrapped in the same flannel blanket, every
once upon a time weaved into the material.
Your heartbeat is my cadence,
Timed by the constant beeps of the monitor.
Your head is against my chest. Eyes
Closed, you ask me to read.
I flutter kisses against you bare scalp
And begin.
“Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive…”
~:~
The final line is, of course, the first line from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (1997).
*sobs*
Delete@MiamiTrue
ReplyDelete200 Words
Fairy tales; most little girls are lead to believe that someday their prince will come.
OK, maybe not exactly on a white horse and almost certainly he won’t be a real-life prince.
So maybe it’s more that he makes us feel like a princess. That sounds about right.
So we try, we kiss more than a few frogs, then we find one we think; maybe we can make him into our prince?
But alas, after too many “if only’s” we realize that he will not change. I mean seriously, we can overlook the socks on the floor, but if your “if only” is that he will stop lying and/or cheating, its time to move on.
One day you just give up, finally realizing there is no prince out there for you. Kicking yourself for having believed, if not just subconsciously, that no one is too old for fairy tales.
Once you let go of the prince fantasy, life becomes relaxed, you figure out those fairy tales made it all look way too easy.
Then one day, if you’re lucky enough, you’ll find someone that makes you laugh and just “gets” you, that’s when you’ll know you’ve finally found your prince.
@bkhchica
ReplyDeleteWord Count: 199
A squeaky wheel sounded down the hallway, echoing in her ears. A wrinkled face smiled while the toothless mouth asked, “Is that what you’re wearin’ to the social tonight?”
“Yeah, is something wrong with it?”
“Not if you wanna look like you got one foot in the grave,” Leah cackled.
Shaking her head, Bella linked her arm with Leah’s and they made their way to the dining room of the center.
Bella stopped short when her eyes landed on a shock of red hair streaked with silver and gray. Green eyes met hers and the smirk that melted her in childhood quirked his brow- her first love that she’d never recovered from.
Her heart skipped a beat and Edward’s shuffled steps brought him to her. “Bella? I’d recognize your eyes anywhere,” he whispered in her ear.
“Yeah, it’s me.” Her arms wound around him and she pulled him into a hug.
“I’ve always loved you- spent my life looking for you after you left with your dad. You’re still just as beautiful now as you were then...” he paused. “Would you dance with me?”
She nodded and sighed, Guess it’s true; you’re never too old for fairy tale endings.
Twitter: @hummingbirdFF
ReplyDeleteWord count: 188
~~~
As she walked through the forest, her dark-red cloak whipped in the wind. It was nearing nightfall, and she’d not yet reached her destination.
She could feel it then—she was not alone. She gripped the basket tighter and picked up her pace. The clearing was now in sight, but she could feel the beast coming ever closer.
As she finally stepped into the clearing, she turned and was suddenly face-to-face with the terrifying beast. She could feel his breath, hot and heavy against her neck.
His sharp teeth dragged across her jugular, and she closed her eyes, knowing what would happen next.
The teeth turned softer, and a human hand caressed her cheek. The basket dropped to the ground as she drew in a ragged breath.
“Well, well, Little Red. What are you doing wandering through the forest on your own? Don’t you know that there’s a big, bad wolf around?”
His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. She slowly tugged on the flimsy knot holding her cloak together, causing it to flutter to the ground.
“On the contrary, Jake; I was counting on it.”
~~~
@bigblueboat
ReplyDelete200 words
*********************
My five year old walked into the room, climbed next to me on the bed and patted my wings. “Can you tell me a story?”
I struggled for breath. “Not right now. Why don’t you tell me one instead?”
Whispers of ninja princesses fighting evil unicorns freeing the sleeping fairies crossed into my medicated nightmares.
There were those who thought her pregnancy should have been ended, those that didn’t believe in the miracle she has become. What they didn’t realize was that she’s the reason I’ve fought so hard to stay here, with them.
She had a smile and story to accompany each treatment, an escape from our world and the knowledge that each day I see her is another fairy tale come true.
I treasure each story captured by the recorder, playing each over and over during the jags of insomnia. When she was tiny, we would listen to the Grimm brothers’ version of fairy tales, hoping to instill some sense of me that she can hold on to once I’m gone.
I've found that hers are more soothing.
Today’s story took a different path. It ended with white clouds and wizards and no last kisses from ninja princesses.
@CrackedFic
ReplyDelete199 words
***
The old woman did not believe. She never had, and always vowed that she never would.
She lay in a hospital bed that had been installed in her bedroom two Thursdays ago. A hospice nurse sat by her side. The afternoon sun sneaked in the window; dust bunnies danced.
“May I read?” the nurse asked.
The old woman did not respond.
“For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep,” the nurse read.
“That’s Thessalonians,” she said. She smiled, but the old woman was silent. Her chest rose, and it fell, and the gap between the rising and the falling began to grow.
The nurse flipped pages and read more.
“Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies.’”
“That’s the Book of John,” the nurse said. The old woman remained quiet.
“What do you think you’re doing?” It was the old woman’s daughter, home from work now. “You know she doesn’t believe in fairytales.”
The nurse closed her book and she smiled peacefully. “You’re never too old to believe.”