Join the challenge. No special permission required!
Each week on Tuesday (as time permits), I’ll post a word, a phrase, a picture, or an idea that will constitute a prompt from which to submit a poem, a flash fiction piece (preferably not longer than 250 words), an original photograph, an original artwork, or a combination of these things that you think applies to the week’s theme.
Interpret the theme as you see fit. The only rules are that you be creative, be original, and have fun. Post your entry on your own blog and add your link to the InLinkz page (see little blue frog image below).
As with most challenges of this sort, I encourage you to provide feedback, respectful critiques, or general comments for each other’s stories. Simple “Likes” are good too!
This week, I give you for your prompt one of my own original paintings entitled “Abandoned.” Need I say more? Get writing. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.
Lost and found
“Ben! Look. There’s a house.”
Lauren cried out in pain as she and Ben emerged from the forest. They’d been going in circles for hours.
“There’s no one home. The yard hasn’t been plowed. The road isn’t even plowed yet.”
“I don’t care. I see chimneys. They must have a fire place. I need to get warm. I can’t feel my feet. You knew that god-damned stream was there. Why did you make us cross it?”
“It should have been frozen solid by now. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry.”
“Hmph.” Lauren growled. She had dunked both feet in the freezing water before she could scramble out of the hole that had sucked in both of her snowshoes. So much for snowshoes keeping you up.
“I don’t think we should go in there.” Ben said.
Lauren drew in a deep angry breath and gritted her teeth. “Well, we have do something. If you don’t, my feet are going to fall off. I’m pretty sure I don’t want stumps for the rest of my life.” Lauren moaned again with the growing pain.
“Okay. I’ll have to break in.”
“Fine! Just shut up and do it. I need heat. Now!”
Ben managed to push in the door of the back shed. Firewood. Good. He dropped his backpack and gathered up an armload.
They heard a groan from deeper in the house.
“Help me.” A faint voice called.
In the living room, an elderly man was lying on the floor, obviously in pain. The fireplace was cold. How long had this man been here, alone and freezing to death?
“Are you hurt?” Ben asked him.
“Yes. My shoulder. And my leg.”
One stick of firewood was lying on the hearth. He’d been trying to get a fire going.
“Do you have a phone?” Lauren asked.
The man nodded. Lauren heaved a huge sigh of relief.
“You get a fire going. I’ll call the emergency line.”