Tag Archives: challenges

50 Words #3

*create a scene/story in exactly 50 words *

50 words #3

The dragon sleeps now, his hunger held by the sacrifice left for him. He did not feed on the offering. There was something about her tears, a defiance in her eyes saying this would not be her fate. She would not be food for the gods. She would ride them.

Seven Days Of Sentences: Day 7

Wow, I made it through this self dared challenge. I’m not sure how successful it was, but I am pleased on how it turned out for me in my writing. Creating a daily writing habit, even if it was just one sentence, made me feel better about jumping back into the fray. It also got the creative juices flowing, getting me to think about different stories and voices. I’m still on the fence about NaNoWriMo but I’m sure running out of time to make up my mind, lol. Okay, so here’s Day seven of the challenge and my last entry of the weeklong prompt. Hope you enjoy.

Not many people today talk about the massacre at the Cayville Public library, but sometimes within the eyes of the survivors you can see there’s a secret in there, perhaps lost or purposely forgotten to protect those who were never seen again.

Seven Days Of Sentences: Day 5

Just a couple more days left in the challenge. If you’re just joining me here, the challenge is this: write a story in just one sentence. Sentence can be any length, but once a period is in place, that’s it. So here we go with my attempt on Day 5.


The Bible told him what to do, and though it wasn’t what we would have done, perhaps our minds weren’t quite as twisted as his.

Seven Days Of Sentences: Day One

As an attempt to get my creative juices flowing again, I thought I would challenge myself, and hopefully challenge other readers/writers as well. So, beginning today I’m starting something I call, “7 days of sentences.” The challenge here is every day for seven days to paint a scene in just one sentence. The sentence can be as lengthy as you like , but once that period is in place, that’s it. The goal here is to create a story in as few words as possible. The story need not be complete, but it does need to describe a scene within that one sentence. In addition, throughout the seven day run, each day’s entry cannot be related to any of the others. At the end of this challenge, you should have seven unrelated sentences that would make starting points for seven different tales. It’s all about creativity and getting motivated to write something. Put your entry in the comments for this post and/or post it in your own blog. Be sure to link it back to this one, so I can read what you came up with. My first day’s attempt is below. Hope you enjoy. Now, let’s have some writing fun!


Rain falls, and Anna watches the stars, wondering if one day she’ll be like a planet colliding with another, knocked off its axis, and spinning wildly into the beautiful darkness.

Piano (flash fiction, free write, whatever….)

The piano sits silent. I can’t bring myself to touch the keys, to place nimble fingers on the black and white and produce the smallest measure. I am empty, devoid of music and sound, preferring this, the beauty of the vacuum left behind by my melancholic spirit. I am but the husk of an artist, bewildered by the absence of inspirational thought, or the motivation to create something from the nothing. I long to see the notes again within my mind’s eye, fearing it is now lost, cast out into the void to be found by someone else, who will make more of it than I ever did. The hall is unoccupied, the applause a memory. The piano sits silent. Alone. 
Paul D Aronson July 2017

Doll (50 word story)

I really love doing prompts and challenges. Sometimes I just want to push myself to try and write something that is more strict and confined in its guidelines. I’m so used to stretching stories out that when 50 word challenges come along it can be quite daunting. Though the following little story wasn’t brought on by a challenge from another blog or source, I gave myself this one word prompt while working in the basement and coming across the doll illustrating this post. It belonged to my mother and I snapped up a quick shot and fed it through my photo editor. Taking a look at it later, the 50 word story began. Hope you enjoy! Feel free to post your own 50 word story  in the comments if the pic inspires you to write. Have a great Saturday and stay away from dolls, lol….
The old porcelain doll looked at me from the dresser. Her cracked amber eyes seemed to harbor evil and malice. Her tiny mouth sneered. My wife slept peacefully beside me, so I ignored the thing and tried to get some rest too. I didn’t even know we had a doll. 

Hand Over The Girl: Dialogue Prompt for Sunday 12 Feb

Alright, here we go with yet another prompt. I really enjoy doing these, and I hope you don’t mind me passing the challenge over to you. I just find prompts a great warm up to get those creative juices going. So today, we have a slice of dialogue to inspire your flash fiction or short story. The object is to use this in its exact form somewhere within your text. In case you missed it in the image for this post, the dialogue to use is as follows:

“Hand over the girl.”

“Not going to happen.”

Again, Put this anywhere within your story. I did take it a step further personally by adding a further rule for myself: My flash fiction had to be told completely with dialogue. You don’t have to do yours this way if you don’t want to. I was just trying to challenge myself further. Okay , well here we go….


One Morning Before Breakfast

“Hand over the girl.”

“Not going to happen.” 

“Are you crazy? We have you outnumbered.” 

“And your point is?..” 

“We can take her by force if we have to.” 

“That’s not a good idea.” 

“Ha! And why not?” 

“For every action there is a reaction. You are a ripple in the pond. Don’t turn it into a wave.” 

“I hated school teachers as a kid. I hate them even worse now, so just give us the girl.” 

“You can learn nothing from her. Leave her alone.” 

“We just want to talk to her about what she saw.” 

“She didn’t see anything. Nobody called the cops. Live and let live.” 

“I’m sorry, the boss wants to see her just the same. Just to make sure.” 

“I can’t let you take her.” 

“Come on, teach. Be smart. Don’t make me shoot you.” 

“You don’t understand.” 

“So make me understand and maybe I’ll let you live.” 

“She can’t go outside. Not yet anyway.” 

“What? Is she grounded or something? Teacher, giving her after school lessons in the dark? Ha-ha!” 

“No, she just likes it here in the dark.” 

“Freaking perv. How many little girls you bring down here in this dark, damp basement?” 

“I’m not a perv. I’m her teacher.” 

“Not for long, you ain’t. Now, one last time, hand..over…the …girl.” 

“I’m sorry Elena. These men want to talk to you. I tried my best. I guess I’m not much good at being a protector.” 

“That’s better, teach. Now get her out of that corner.” 

“Elena, it’s alright. You can come out and go with them. But just this one time, okay?” 

“That’s right girly, come out and go with us.” 

“Elena, remember what I taught you. Never for pleasure, always for survival, okay?” 

“Whatever, teach. Come on girl, we ain’t got all day. Earl, go over there and get her.” 

“Right, boss. I’m on it….hey, what’s up with her eyes? Why is she freaking smiling like that…..Aaaaaaaa!” 

“What the hell? Get her off of him guys!” 

“I told you she wants to stay in the dark.” 

“Oh my god, boss! She has…. Aaaaaa!” 

“I’m coming , hold on! I’m going to pump you full of lead, you little bitch!…What the shit? What..what the hell are you? I just emptied all my bullets into you!…No, get away from me! Why are you looking at me like that? Oh Mary, holy mother of Jesus, is that blood on your teeth? No, no, no!…… AaaaaAAA!” 

“Elena, don’t turn them. Survival only, remember? That’s a good girl. Come on, let’s get you away from the light. Whoa, you sure are heavy after you’ve had breakfast….” 


2017 Paul D Aronson. 

Flash Fiction: Count To 50 And Breathe

Woo-hoo! It’s flash fiction Friday, but a day late 😉 So, anyway today I’m going to share this piece of flash fiction, and hopefully inspire you to join in with some of your own. There’s no rule to this other than whatever you write is based upon, inspired by, or otherwise encouraged by the provided image heading this post. So, take a look at the image and wherever it takes you, just write. After all that’s the real purpose here, to get those creative juices flowing. My own attempt  at this is below, and please feel free to share your own take on this challenge in the comments or by providing a link to your work, so we can see what everyone comes up with. Have fun!


The bedroom is dark, not totally devoid of light, but just enough to cast shadows upon the wall. The light from the hallway under the door. The black light that hangs in the closet, a remnant from when this was my big brother’s room and his closet walls were adorned with velvet posters of Led Zeppelin and The Rolling Stones that changed colors under the ultraviolet bulb. The posters are gone now, but the black light is irresistible and now casts strange shadows against the wall making Johnny Depp as Edward Scissorhands seem like he could come down and sit beside me just to say he knows how I feel. I often feel like Edward, lost in a world that didn’t want him, misunderstood by all except one, and yet I don’t have that one , unless you count my gray tabby, Captain Howdy. Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t name him. It’s another remnant from my brother who I think got it from either a Stephen King novel or a song by Twisted Sister.

Sometimes I find the darkness in my room liberating, as if in the black pitch I can truly be me without putting myself on parade, masquerading as mommy and daddy’s happy little girl. And yet sometimes the darkness becomes claustrophobic, as if my world is a box that steadily gets smaller and smaller like something out of Alice In Wonderland. It’s in these moments, when everything is closing in around me, that I count to fifty and breathe. It’s a trick my grandmother taught me. A way to overcome fear, nervousness, or any situation that seems so alien it’s dangerous.

When I was little I was afraid of the dark. I would whine and cry for my father. He wouldn’t come. My grandmother would finally get up and come to my rescue. We would count to fifty together and it made everything better. I’m no longer afraid of the darkness; it just gets so stifling lonely sometimes. Boys my age don’t understand this. Nor do many of the girls. If they do they don’t admit it. They would rather pretend that loneliness doesn’t consume them or cover them like an ever present shroud. But I can’t pretend. I am lonely and the only ones who understand are hanging on my wall.

Challenge: Abandon Your Comfort Zone

Recently a friend of mine on Facebook challenged me to write something outside my comfort zone. “Whatever you are scared to write about, write it anyway,” he said. I let this sink in awhile, but didn’t really intend to take him up on the challenge. Still, it wouldn’t leave me. Could I abandon my safe writing place and tackle something that makes me uncomfortable or is darker than what I would normally write? Finally, while meditating with my adult coloring book, it came to me. What I felt is one of  the hardest things for me to write about just sprang to mind with a stark opening line. I feel weird telling you that I hope you enjoy this piece, but hopefully it does bring something to the table, to maybe inspire you to write a story or poem outside your own comfort zone. You don’t need to use the picture heading this post, just write what you don’t want to write 😉 Feel free to share anything you may write in regards to this challenge if you like. You can post it as a comment here in my post, or share a link if you have it written or posted somewhere else. Okay, takes a deep breath, here it goes.


The Devil Is A Cold Floor
I am a shadow.

 A ghost moving against the chill of a cold concrete floor.

The voice of the devil tells me this is what adults do.

Lay still. Be quiet. This will hurt just a bit, then it feels good.

The devil lies. The hurt goes on forever

Following from one lover to another

To mess you up for everyone

Hot water heater

I imagine its the mouth of hell

As I stare up in into its tiny flickering flame

Wishing it could burn the shame away

But the shame remains as it always will

A stark reminder that the devil is a cold floor

Upon which all innocence dies.