Fifties by the Fire — a fifty-word, prompt-based writing challenge. Feel free to share your response below, or read and comment to join in on the fun.
Prompt: Write a fifty-word story (fiction, poem, or work of CNF) that somehow incorporates the accompanying image.
Here are the other guidelines:
Make sure your piece is exactly fifty words. Feel free to use Word Counter or the word processor you use.
Write a title with the genre in the first line. (Example: Worlds Away, Fiction)
The title does not factor into the word count.
Good luck and have fun. Happy writing!
Special thanks to John Lightle for providing “Abalone” for our writing prompt.
John Lightle is a Texas writer, poet, and photographer who spends many hours sitting on his woodpile contemplating. When away from his frame shop, he schleps his artwork among area art shows. The job takes him across the countryside, occasionally overseas, photographing the quiet resolve found within the golden hours.
You're invited to select the link above and read About this Story. Feel free to also Like and leave a Comment over there (helps me with the algorithms).
Justin, thank you for reminding me about today! Grateful to have a new story.
He flew in specially, his Mexican retreat prepared by long-suffering staff. Two were fired instantly, disdain in his voice. The terrace overlooked the port where bidding was fierce. He outbid them; he always did. His chef prepared the abalone nervously. Hallucinatory effects swamped the unloved billionaire. Revenge, best served chilled.
So many fantastic stories here, Justin. My attempt follows:
The Witches Brew
“Hee hee”, cackled the witch as she stirred the caldron. Inside the pot was abalone shells, stardust, and a few other ingredients, perfect for Love potion #13.
“When he drinks this” she croaked, “he will be mine for all of eternity!”
Lost Soul, Fiction
He finds the fabled pool— the ancient abalone.
“Please,” the man begs. “I wish for a better life.”
In an instant, he’s compressed, morphed, and blown away in the wind. He lands, joins brothers and sisters—fellow lost souls.
A sapling begins to grow near the edge of a forest.
A Meal for the Family – Crime Fiction
‘Man, that was great ravioli.’
‘An extra special reward. You had trouble with the shipment, eh? Had to waste a cop?’
‘Shit happens. I like the fancy cutlery.’
‘Abalone handles. They match the ingredients.’
‘The fuck? I have a shellfish allergy…’
‘And my sister had a cop for a son.’
Sea Glass – Poetry
jagged shards of empty vice
scattered over shoals
stolen by the moon’s servant
to be pulled and rolled and rocked and lulled into blue lavender luminescence
reclaimed by the sand
the shards become precious
glowing gems to the curious eyes and
outstretched hands of children
held up to the sun
The Games People Play, Fiction
"Press it to your eye, dummy."
"Wow! What is this thing?”
“A kaleidoscope,” I said, laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” I smiled, shaking my head.
I could hear his mother calling, took the kaleidoscope and told him I’d see him tomorrow—wondering if the black circle would still be there.
"Abalone Man", Science Fiction
—
"Take the pill," he says.
So, I do. Doctor's orders.
"Obey the master," she says.
So, I do. The pill makes it easy.
"Follow the rules," they say.
So, I do. I only see the approved colors.
Take the pill, obey the master, and become the shell of a man.
(Amazing photo, John and Justin. Looks like a dying fire to me)
ANGLE OF REPOSE, poem
She dropped his letter into the fire
and watched it blacken and curl.
Nothing was left but embers,
and blue smoke.
She’d made her decision.
There would be no re-deciding
this time.
She had finally found her own
angle of repose,
and she knew she would never
slide
back
down.
His Final Adventure, Fiction
~~~~~
Steve picked up the abalone shell and marveled at the colors: violet, cerulean blue, rose, and mother-of-pearl.
He paddled out on his kayak toward calm waters. He opened a bottle, poured his father's ashes into the shell, then watched it float toward the sunset.
"'Bye, Dad. Thanks for the adventures."
~~~~~
https://jenisecook.substack.com/p/his-final-adventure
You're invited to select the link above and read About this Story. Feel free to also Like and leave a Comment over there (helps me with the algorithms).
Justin, thank you for reminding me about today! Grateful to have a new story.
Suddenly Small, fiction
.
“Ow!” Kate yelped, rubbing her temples. “Warn me before you use the shrink ray!”
“Sorry,” answered Suzanne.
“Where are we?” Colors swam and swirled. Suzanne smiled.
Kate looked again. “My nail polish colors!” She slid down against a bottle to the mirrored tray. “You can make us big again, right?”
Title: The Sea-God's Embrace (poem)
Abandoned long before your time,
In ice-blue grip of Devil's claw.
Alone so long, you knew not why
Or how a soul could grasp
Its situation, so perilous, so vast
In ice-blue grip of Devil's claw.
But now to that sea cavern, retire all
In ice-blue grip of Devil's claw.
Fun challenge. Here's what I came up with:
Stars Collide and Kingdom’s Totter by H. W. Taylor - fiction
———
I told her it was dangerous for us to be lovers. "It can't go on like this."
She shook her head. "We are made beautiful by love."
I opened my shirt to show her the polychromatic bruises.
She took me by the throat. “Glory be to God for dappled things.”
Entitled, fiction
He flew in specially, his Mexican retreat prepared by long-suffering staff. Two were fired instantly, disdain in his voice. The terrace overlooked the port where bidding was fierce. He outbid them; he always did. His chef prepared the abalone nervously. Hallucinatory effects swamped the unloved billionaire. Revenge, best served chilled.
The Abalone’s Behest | Poem
That shell adorning your neck:
Countless layers of mother-of-pearl
A lifetime’s work.
A shimmering kaleidoscope
Translucent psychedelica
An immersive iridescent pool.
An impenetrable shield
Drawing healing energies from the universe
Engulfing you in tranquility
Granting you prosperity
And happiness.
As it once did for me
When it was my home.
So many fantastic stories here, Justin. My attempt follows:
The Witches Brew
“Hee hee”, cackled the witch as she stirred the caldron. Inside the pot was abalone shells, stardust, and a few other ingredients, perfect for Love potion #13.
“When he drinks this” she croaked, “he will be mine for all of eternity!”
The sisters giggled with rolled eyes.