Fifties by the Fire — a fifty-word, prompt-based writing exercise. Feel free to share your response below, or read and comment to join the fun.
Prompt: Write a fifty-word story (fiction, poetry, or CNF) that uses the word broken or suggests/hints at something being broken.
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: Turn of Fortune, Fiction)
The title does not factor into the word count.
Good luck and have fun. Happy writing!
Special thanks to John Lightle for providing “Red Pepper/Green Chevy” 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.
Like we always told our students, life is full of second chances! I love how you compare Vaughn's spirit to broken glass. A clear substance that lets the light in. Great story, Justin!
Leaving no footprints, he stumbles, blindly groping his way through a mental wilderness — a sting of brambles, a dark stain of fear, a longing that breaks his shivering bones.
Yet through all his pain, he feels the pull of a fine, strong thread, and knows she’ll rescue him once again.
He gazed fondly at the crystal wine goblet she had gifted him several year's ago. And wished to caress it tenderly one last time. It slipped from his clammy hands and splintered into the night followed by an eerie silence. She had stopped loving him. What could be more fragile?!
Thank you, Justin! It wasn’t where I expected it to go either. It was one of those times when my fingers tapped out the words without me giving it much thought. 😉
She never meant for it to happen. She only had two drinks, maybe three. Following the broken line with her headlights, her eyes began to lose focus, closing. She came to just as her car crossed over the line. Now she would have to live with her tragic mistake forever.
Ooh, man, this is a heavy one, Sharon. I agree with what Sharron Bassano said below. I love that line! And it does seem to tell the entire story. That opening line is a beauty, too! Thanks so much for sharing with us!
Ella tried to make it to the bathroom, but her hips felt broken. She had pinched nerves, severe stenosis, and her bone density was not the strongest. In her haste, she almost tripped over an electrical chord. She had sat too long in her chair. Daniel found her weeping later.
It sure is, especially if you suffer constant, debilitating pain. I feel for all of us in this boat. Just gotta power through and never lay down, or we wont get back up!
Daniel sat on the grass beside the road, sweating profusely. He looked left. There was nothing but farmland as far as the eye could see. He looked right. More of the same. He looked down at his bicycle chain. It was broken, but his spirit wasn’t. He would ride again.
You know sticks and stones may break your bones. But are you aware you have special cells that spring to action, working together, to mend a fracture. Osteoclasts break down old and damaged bone tissue. Osteoblasts are like construction crews that create new, healthier cells.
What a great scene and story, Chris. It feels like you’ve managed to build two believable characters in this short space. What a feat! Thanks so much for sharing.
As ever, thanks to you Justin, for creating this forum and opportunity. I just might have randomly stumbled into the beginnings of an actual story with this one :) Keep up the good work.
Thank you Justin (and Mark and Sharron!) for your comments. I love getting the emails through with these prompts but this one nudged me to write something. Have loved reading the other responses too ☺️
The hacksaw blade he found in the bed of the truck had made him a free man. The shackles were finally broken, and he could run, and run he did, wind cooling his sweat soaked body. He had to get away from Arab, Alabama, and the white-hooded demons behind him.
I ADORE this concept of 50 words. Twitter has/had?a longer word limit (140 something?). Game I have been noodling about, something to play with LOVED ones only. Name I am batting about is “The Truthiest Truths” Rules: say something you believe to be a Truthier Truth. Then be open to someone disagreeing with you. You then need to hear them out. Ultimately, the truth should emerge, if my instinct is correct! Just to give you a flavor, I will share my index card I have been using to track my thoughts on these kinds of truths. My gut tells me I will probably be very good at this game! But part of me is longing to be incorrect/needing refinement in my thinking?
Thanks, Mary! Writing fifty-word stories is a blast, especially if you enjoy playing and experimenting with words. Prior to Substack, I ran a publication on a site called Medium.com, and it was essentially the same concept: writing “fifties” in response to a prompt! I believe I ran that from 2018 or so to 2020.
Your game sounds like a lot of fun! And I believe I’m understanding it correctly. Is your plan to share this on Substack?
Thanks so much for commenting here and sharing your ideas!
Realizing photos are not permitted. So, here is one of my latest truthier truths: Parting is such sweet sorrow. [From Romeo and Juliet. Applies to life more broadly. My beloved dog died after 9 years of love, giving me freedom from caregiving for him. Also applies to lovers, who we need to be apart from in order to be fully free to be ourselves.
If people get the gist of it, no explanation is needed. Some people, though, need more explanation! I will be good at this game cuz I will get the gist, alot of the time!😂
New Life, fiction
Vaughn’s spirit was once broken like the busted bottle he’d held in his hand.
He relived those fifteen seconds thousands of times in his cell: the jagged glass, vicious strikes, instant regret.
Six years of remorse.
He searched inward, found light, and discovered a path forward—a new, precious life.
Redemption is always good. Nice writing, Justin. As ever.
Very much appreciated, Barrie, thank you! 🙏
Life is full of consequences. But there is always hope. Well done, Justin.
Thank you, Mark!
Like we always told our students, life is full of second chances! I love how you compare Vaughn's spirit to broken glass. A clear substance that lets the light in. Great story, Justin!
Thank you for reading and commenting, Andrea! I still tell my students this. 😊
Loved this turn-around in his life, Justin! This is what we all hope for the incarcerated.
I really appreciate it, Sharon, thank you!
He can be redeemed. Put the atonement to work. Fine writing, my friend.
Thank you, Sharron!
Beautiful!
Thanks, Sunil!
Broken, prose poem
Leaving no footprints, he stumbles, blindly groping his way through a mental wilderness — a sting of brambles, a dark stain of fear, a longing that breaks his shivering bones.
Yet through all his pain, he feels the pull of a fine, strong thread, and knows she’ll rescue him once again.
That final sentence is equally powerful and beautiful, Sharron. Thank you for sharing this poem with us!
Thanks, Justin, for this great prompt!
Magical!
Thank you, Sunil
Until she won't. (The cynic in me.)
We all need someone who loves us unconditionally. (The romantic in me.)
Wow, Sharron! I felt the hope, desperate and painful...and possible!
Powerful
Fragile love ( fiction )
He gazed fondly at the crystal wine goblet she had gifted him several year's ago. And wished to caress it tenderly one last time. It slipped from his clammy hands and splintered into the night followed by an eerie silence. She had stopped loving him. What could be more fragile?!
Those final two lines hit hard, Sunil. I really liked this one…very atmospheric!
Some relationships are often as fragile as delicate crystals...
Sad story. Love can be hard to hold onto. You have to be careful with it.
My heart stopped in that eerie silence. Wonderful writing!
Also sad…
Locked Out, fiction
My hands tremble as I close the laptop. The words writhe in the watery jelly behind my eyes.
“Yours forever.”
A lie. But whose? Hers or mine?
The door handle rattles as he jams his key into the broken lock on my front door.
He won’t get inside.
Not tonight.
Talk about suspense! I’d love to see this one fleshed out, Meg. It’s so intense, and I have so many questions. Thanks so much for sharing with us!
Thanks for hosting! Love me some fifties by the fire!
More questions than answers. A good thing in a 50-worder.
❓🤔🥂
Yikes! I love this kind of writing....makes my heart race. Nice!
Thank you! 💓
Oooh, creepy!
A Good Deed, fiction
Sylvester, a curious feline, jumped on the mantle, knocking over the urn. It shattered, spilling fine ash on the hearth.
A swirling mist emerged with a whisper of gratitude—a spirit, long trapped. It showered Sylvester with a gentle glow before fading.
Sylvester purred, content with doing a good deed.
I love where you took this, Caro. It’s not at all where I expected the story to go. Very clever! And what a lovely gesture on Sylvester’s part!
Thank you, Justin! It wasn’t where I expected it to go either. It was one of those times when my fingers tapped out the words without me giving it much thought. 😉
Love when that happens! 😀
Love this. 💜
Thank you, Meg!
Ha. Now, that's a twist. Nicely done.
Thank you, Mark!
What a beautiful story!
Thank you, Sharon!
Eggs.--Poem
Some fear getting hurt
Or hurting others.
Fair enough.
Do not disturb
The status quo;
It lies sleeping
Like a well-fed baby.
But where there is nothing to lose
There is little to gain.
No pain, no gain.
In order to make an omelet,
We must break a few eggs.
A great message written so succinctly! Powerful ideas here, RI. Thanks for sharing!
Crossing The Line, Fiction
She never meant for it to happen. She only had two drinks, maybe three. Following the broken line with her headlights, her eyes began to lose focus, closing. She came to just as her car crossed over the line. Now she would have to live with her tragic mistake forever.
Ooh, man, this is a heavy one, Sharon. I agree with what Sharron Bassano said below. I love that line! And it does seem to tell the entire story. That opening line is a beauty, too! Thanks so much for sharing with us!
I appreciate your comments, Justin, and for offering 50-word prompts for us! Thank you!
Wow. Beautiful. The story is in the sentence " She only had two drinks, maybe three."
Thanks, Sharron. All it takes is one error in judgement, one time.
There are always consequences. Seemingly small actions can be life-changing. Well written.
Ella tried to make it to the bathroom, but her hips felt broken. She had pinched nerves, severe stenosis, and her bone density was not the strongest. In her haste, she almost tripped over an electrical chord. She had sat too long in her chair. Daniel found her weeping later.
You’ve captured the reality so many elderly people face. It hits home for me without a doubt. I hope Daniel was able to bring her some comfort!
Thanks so much for stopping by and sharing, Kim!
Thanks for providing the prompts!
Age is a cruel companion at times. Sad, but well done.
Thank you, Mark, I'm there and some days it does suck.
So much empathy in this writing. I also know how Ella felt.
I hate to even admit how much I identify with this story. It is hell getting old. Thank you, Kim, for the commiseration.
It sure is, especially if you suffer constant, debilitating pain. I feel for all of us in this boat. Just gotta power through and never lay down, or we wont get back up!
Sad...
The Racer - Fiction
Daniel sat on the grass beside the road, sweating profusely. He looked left. There was nothing but farmland as far as the eye could see. He looked right. More of the same. He looked down at his bicycle chain. It was broken, but his spirit wasn’t. He would ride again.
Great story, Mark! I like his attitude. Gotta find a way to keep going!
Thanks Justin.
You know sticks and stones may break your bones. But are you aware you have special cells that spring to action, working together, to mend a fracture. Osteoclasts break down old and damaged bone tissue. Osteoblasts are like construction crews that create new, healthier cells.
If only hearts were bones.
This is an awesome piece, Scott. The line, “If only hearts were bones” will stick with me for a long time. Thanks so much for sharing this one! 🙏
The last line is the kicker.
Art Had a Fierce System, too (fiction)
The crooked dealer hunched over in the blinds-slit afternoon light, fearing the narrowed frown on the restorer's face.
"Too risky?" he finally replied. "Just a rip-off of a Baroque!"
"Improvements can be..." the restorer reflected slowly. "If it--don't fix it, Theysa got wiser, ya know."
The dealer sighed. "I'm sunk."
What a great scene and story, Chris. It feels like you’ve managed to build two believable characters in this short space. What a feat! Thanks so much for sharing.
As ever, thanks to you Justin, for creating this forum and opportunity. I just might have randomly stumbled into the beginnings of an actual story with this one :) Keep up the good work.
Right back at you, Chris. Thanks!
Not Forgotten, CNF
My heart is broken, tears fall on the keyboard as I write the story, and grief spills onto the page.
My child you died but you will not be forgotten. You are loved eternally.
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”
Psalm 34:18 ESV
Whew…I had to set my coffee down for this one. My stomach sunk. Powerful writing, GeorgeAnn, and my heart goes out to you. 💙
Quantum Stumble, Fiction
“How are you doing this?” She asks, more frantic this time than the last. “Let. Me. Go!”
He’d tell her he isn’t doing anything, but he’d rather not argue. For her, it’s instantaneous, but it’s been months since he last saw her.
She jabs at the activator, and is gone.
Love this! And that title is perfect. Thanks so much for sharing!
Thank you Justin (and Mark and Sharron!) for your comments. I love getting the emails through with these prompts but this one nudged me to write something. Have loved reading the other responses too ☺️
So happy to hear this, D! I’ve always enjoyed reading everyone’s responses…they’re always vastly different!
Thanks again for writing and sharing. 😀
An interesting premise. There is more to this story. Nice.
Yes.... more to this story. Let's have it!
The Blade, New 50-Word Fiction
The hacksaw blade he found in the bed of the truck had made him a free man. The shackles were finally broken, and he could run, and run he did, wind cooling his sweat soaked body. He had to get away from Arab, Alabama, and the white-hooded demons behind him.
Whoa! I wasn’t expecting this at all! What an intense story…I hope he gets out of there fast.
Me too! Thank you, Justin!
SHATTERED EDGES
_____
Mirror fragments scatter.
Broken promises glint.
Words unsaid hang heavy,
Suspended between us.
Time fractures, memories splinter.
.
What was whole now lies
In shards at our feet.
We stand, barefoot, afraid to move,
Lest we cut ourselves
On jagged edges of us.
.
Reflections distort truth.
I ADORE this concept of 50 words. Twitter has/had?a longer word limit (140 something?). Game I have been noodling about, something to play with LOVED ones only. Name I am batting about is “The Truthiest Truths” Rules: say something you believe to be a Truthier Truth. Then be open to someone disagreeing with you. You then need to hear them out. Ultimately, the truth should emerge, if my instinct is correct! Just to give you a flavor, I will share my index card I have been using to track my thoughts on these kinds of truths. My gut tells me I will probably be very good at this game! But part of me is longing to be incorrect/needing refinement in my thinking?
Thanks, Mary! Writing fifty-word stories is a blast, especially if you enjoy playing and experimenting with words. Prior to Substack, I ran a publication on a site called Medium.com, and it was essentially the same concept: writing “fifties” in response to a prompt! I believe I ran that from 2018 or so to 2020.
Your game sounds like a lot of fun! And I believe I’m understanding it correctly. Is your plan to share this on Substack?
Thanks so much for commenting here and sharing your ideas!
I am super new to substack. I am a sharing soul though. TBD is probably my best shot answer.
Realizing photos are not permitted. So, here is one of my latest truthier truths: Parting is such sweet sorrow. [From Romeo and Juliet. Applies to life more broadly. My beloved dog died after 9 years of love, giving me freedom from caregiving for him. Also applies to lovers, who we need to be apart from in order to be fully free to be ourselves.
If people get the gist of it, no explanation is needed. Some people, though, need more explanation! I will be good at this game cuz I will get the gist, alot of the time!😂
But to win, you need to be able to convince skeptics of your truth.
So in essence, as long as you provide a compelling argument about your truth, you should be able to win? Sounds fun! 😊
Yes! My uncertainty is how many will want to play!
Thanks, and thanks for doing this.