This weekend’s Trifecta prompt:
“Write a horror story in 33 words, without the words blood, scream, died, death, knife, gun, or kill. Good luck.”
They didn’t change the locks when they moved into the new house. Didn’t think they’d need to.
They were asleep when the seller returned with dead eyes and wide grin, key in hand.
This week Trifecta‘s challenge word is cheap.
3 a : of inferior quality or worth : tawdry, sleazy <cheap workmanship> b : contemptible because of lack of any fine, lofty, or redeeming qualities <feeling cheap>
This week I decided to try to write outside of my usual semi-autobiographical bubble. “Semi” because the nursery walls are eggshell, Amazing Grace wasn’t playing when we decided we weren’t going back, the flyer did not say “the end is near,” and the ringer on our phone is never, ever (ever, ever, ever) on. Anyway, I hope I captured what I was going for…
Most nights she went home alone, but the loneliest were the nights she didn’t. Tonight was no exception. A bottle of cheap Merlot ushered in the fake good times, and then he was gone.
She remembered once hearing a man snidely refer to his lover as just a warm body. She ran her hand down to her cold, damp thigh. “No,” she thought, “I’m not even that.”
“My heart’s just not in it,” I confided.
“I’m sure that’s not true…” she said consolingly, lifting a hand as if to pat my arm, but stopping suddenly at my raised eyebrow.
“Heartfelt accounting?” I asked.
“Hmm, I see what you mean,” she replied, dropping her hand & laughing.
Trifecta: For your prompt this week, we are giving you the first 33 words of a story. You need to complete it with 33 of your own words.
“There’s nothing cute about it,” he said. The register of his voice indicated decision more so than discussion.
She disagreed heartily and privately, staring past his head and out the window behind him.
“I don’t know… I actually think I like it,” his mother finally added, rising to stand next to her daughter-in-law.
And with that it was settled: the nursery walls would be painted plaid.
Trifecta says: This weekend’s challenge is to write a story entitled ‘Lost’ in exactly 33 words. The word ‘lost’ can only appear in the title, not your 33 words.
We agreed it was false pretenses; the Almighty wasn’t there.
We would leave and not look back.
Amazing Grace lilted, ushering us away from stale air and old ideas into sunlight and truth.
Trifecta says: Check out the third definition of trail (below), and respond, using the word exactly as it appears, in no less than 33 and no more than 333 words.
3: to move, flow, or extend slowly in thin streams <smoke trailing from chimneys>
My daughter, my heart:
I watch my daughter play alone in the yard. She is strong and independent. She discovers the world in solitude.
I watch my daughter play alone, working out the ways of the world, and I want to join her. I love her, and she may not know it. I love her, and she may not care.
I leap at her joyful play and twist at the sight of her friendless.
Little wisps of fear and love trail from my heart as I go out to meet her.
This weekend’s challenge is to give us a story or snippet of a story which includes, in exactly 33 words, a justified exclamation point. Make us believe that your exclamation point simply needs to be in your story. The writer with the most believable exclamation wins.
Here we go:
Grocery cart screeching, I raced across the parking lot, eager to unload my goods and get home.
Rolling slowly in reverse, I spotted the flyer flapping under my wiper.
The End is Near!