Are you ready for Mondays Finish the Story challenge? This is a flash fiction challenge where we provide you with a new photo each week, and the first sentence of a story. Your challenge is to finish the story using 100-150 words, not including the sentence provided. Don’t forget to use the opening sentence… Get creative and have fun finishing the story!
Credit: Photo by Barbara Beacham, 2015
Finish the story begins with: “Dropping her line into Fool’s Lake, she patiently waited for something to bite.”
Not that she was hungry. Joan actually disliked the taste of fish. But what she loved about fishing was the time she got to spend with her family.
Growing up, Fool’s Lake was the source of so many memories. Like the time Joan and her dad struggled to reel in a big trout, only to have Joan fall in. While swimming back to shore, Joan got tangled in the line. Dad eventually had to reel her in. The family laughed so hard that day; they still tell that story every time the family gets together. It’s a knee-slapper.
Joan’s life, much like the lake, was so full of possibilities. But where did it all go wrong? Staring into the cool blue waters, she catches her reflection. A tired, lonely woman beaten down by a loveless marriage and dead end career. Still waiting for that one big catch.
Not to happy with this one but I needed to get it done. I want to get back into the habit of doing these every week. I’ve missed this challenge!
Click here to learn more about Mondays Finish The Story.
Are you ready for Mondays Finish the Story challenge? This is a flash fiction challenge where we provide you with a new photo each week, and the first sentence of a story. Your challenge is to finish the story using 100-150 words, not including the sentence provided.
“Silently as the people watched, the black hawk helicopter lifted into the air.”
Major Hanson took a final headcount. He retrieved all his men. A few were slightly wounded. Physically, they would survive. Mentally, now that was another story.
As the helicopter continued its ascent into the skies, the people below were just as relieved they were gone. Their monthslong presence took a toll on the small, remote mountain side village.
“What is done is done,” said the elder. He turned to his youngest son as they traveled the long dirt road. “The conflict is over; they helped us restore peace. Now we must bring the community back together.”
Flying at an altitude above attack range, Major Hanson replayed the last few weeks in his mind. The stench of dead bodies. The incessant enemy fire. He wondered how a place so small could see such mass devastation. Hopefully, their efforts would help the village recover.
Suddenly, the helicopter’s engine begins to fail.
Mondays Finish the Story – December 29th, 2014
Finish the story begins with: “The house of Don Francisco sat in a remote part of the desert.”
Long abandoned, the house was a stark reminder of what had been.
Don remembered the better days. Once celebrated as a symbol of humanitarianism, his home was a beacon of light to those lost in the cloak of the desert’s night.
But now he understood that what he did was wrong. Harboring immigrants trying to enter the country illegally was risky business. He knew that time, or the law, would catch up to him. And they did.
The ride was bumpy; maybe the van needed an alignment. But a smooth ride was the least of Don’s worries. In fact, this would be his last ride in a long time. He looked up to find the driver glancing at him through the rear view mirror.
The van eased to a slow stop. “Take your last look Don,” the driver said. “This is it.”
Don heaved a heavy sigh and whispered, “Goodbye.”
For some reason, I found this week’s prompt a bit challenging. I was really “in my head” on this one. So it may/may not make sense. Ah well, there is always next week!
Mondays Finish The Story. Click the picture to learn more.
Finish the story begins with: “They say that life is a game of chess…”
Well that explains everything. No wonder my life is such a mess. I don’t know how to play the game.
It’s a thinking man’s game filled with complicated moves. 64 squares. 16 pieces, eight black and eight white. Every piece moves differently in a weird yet strategically coordinated dance. Until finally, the king is attacked and captured, signaling total dominance and control.
Maybe I would get ahead if I lived my life this way. Finding ways to wrestle control from others. Pitting myself against imagined enemies in a contest of power. Planning maneuvers that astound my opponent and move me steps closer to victory.
Victory. Whatever that is.
But if I am the only one left standing, where is the victory in that? What is left to control?
Sounds like a very lonely game. No wonder I’ve never learned to play.