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, poetry, or CNF) based upon a gateway.
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: Neighbors, Fiction)
The title does not factor into the word count.
Good luck and have fun. Happy writing!
Special thanks to John Lightle for providing “A Gateway” 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.
This is great, Caro! It makes me wonder about those sacred spaces we all have. This is one I’ll continue to think about…so many layers here! Excellent stuff! 😀
He guarded the gateway to the square, polished granite building. Everyone who visited had gray skin and drooping mouths and a man with a yellow mustache visited every other Sunday, holding a bottle of jack. He spoke once and his breath was sour. “Boys should know when to retreat.”
She sat alone on a park bench, tears trickling down her face. A stranger stopped, sat down and gently handed her a tissue.
A tiny droplet of goodness rushed into her neuropathways, bursting through the gateway of her mind and flooding her thoughts with serotonin, oxytocin, and dopamine. Be kind.
The headlines infuriated him. ‘Tinpot Dictator’. He’d show them. Victory Gate. A shimmering edifice inlaid with the gold teeth of enemies crushed under the tracks of creaking tanks. The dais, at his command, was placed 202 feet from the 202 foot high monument to his hubris. The archway swayed ominously.
My goodness, Barrie. Your “fifties” keep getting better and better. It amazes me how you are able to create such vivid scenes/details in such a limited space. I could see the entire story unfold before me. That’s quite a feat, and again, you’ve nailed it! Great job!
Wow, that’s so lovely. I’m using these to sharpen up my editing, ‘killing my babies’ as Stephen King would say, cutting out the excess. Thank you for the encouragement.
The old biology professor gave his eager freshmen students a wry smile. “The gateway to knowledge is curiosity,” he drawled. “We call ourselves Homo sapiens: man who knows. What we forget is, the gateway to conservation is love. We protect what we love. I will teach you to love nature.”
Oh, this is so much fun, Chris. I went a similar route…couldn’t pass up the chance! 😄 That last line makes me want to dive in further! Excellent, as always.
The voice at the other end of the gateway of communication sounded rejuvenating but not recognizable to her initial annoyance. As she was about to hang up, she heard some music in the background. "You sound great even when annoyed".
Impatience and music created long distance harmony. They exchanged numbers.
You’d think you’d know one when you saw it. She asks, “are you going my way?” You had to get home. Years later, “we think you’d be a great fit.” You declined, worried you weren’t up to the challenge. So many gateways missed by not looking. Are you ready now?
Haha! There isn’t a whole lot of wiggle room with these fifty-worders, is there? 🤣 Sometimes I think these micro tales can stand on their own, and other times they act as springboards with the potential to catapult us into longer stories. I think yours works beautifully as a standalone but could evolve into a longer story. Like Barrie said, there’s so much simmering beneath its surface! Kudos to you! 😊
We do not choose the first, we delay as best we can the third. The second gateway is life day to day. Beyond the gate are green grasses and your dreams and also wrecking balls and screams. Knowing the gate can swing both ways, perhaps you've found your home today.
Thank you so much for your empathy. ♥️ I realize I didn’t really explain why they were my gateway or what they were a gateway to.🤦♀️ They were my gateway to understanding an unfamiliar area of the city and the bravery of the people there amidst many challenges. Thanks Justin!
Oh I thought you delivered that message beautifully. I can feel the impact they left on your life! 🙏 I used to teach many students with similar backgrounds and similar stories. I’ll never forget them!
No need to apologize! These stories come out of nowhere sometimes. It’s incredibly dark, but it’s an excellent story. We need these as much as we need the lighthearted ones.
Lost Era, sci-fi
A crystal gateway and glass obelisks rose higher than the treetops. Various aircraft—some shaped like horseshoes—dotted the blue canvas above.
Captain Leona guided me from the time machine. The others followed us out.
“Thought we were traveling to the past?” Bellamy asked.
Our captain smiled. “And we’ve arrived.”
Time flies. 😉
You never know what you might find in another time.
Hah! Terrific, Justin.
Thank you, Sharron!
Farewell to Duke- Fiction
Paul's muscle ripped his suitcoat. He wasn't purposely flexing.
Sobbing.
The sound of the tear might have been funny another time.
This time it seemed like a metaphor.
Duke the Huskie ripped through the gate one last time.
Full funeral, six pallbearers, unable to name a human they loved more.
Oh man, Jimmy. This one hits hard. Always fun to see your name pop up!
you go,dog.
Hi Ernie!
What an ending! Always expect the unexpected from Mr Doom
Thanks. Gotta keep people guessing, right?
yep. Here's a twoline poem for ya, Jimmy- about an old girlfriend.
"whoawhoawhoaoooo, listen to the music" - Malo (band name?)
for src
You said I played your body like a violin.
I wondered how many orchestras you'd been in.
How sweet!
Thanks!
Oof, nicely done.
Thanks. I miss having the chance to do these regularly
I'm addicted ... to reading them and scratching out my own.
me too
It's a good thing to be hooked on!
Well, yes... when you consider it could be cocaine or cheesecake...
Garden Memories, fiction
He stood before his garden gate as big, soft snowflakes fell.
Why was he there?
The answer lingered beyond his grasp.
He tried to remember, retrace his steps.
Was this his escape or his prison?
Confusion mingled with wonder.
As the labyrinth of his mind twisted, reality slipped further away.
This is great, Caro! It makes me wonder about those sacred spaces we all have. This is one I’ll continue to think about…so many layers here! Excellent stuff! 😀
Yeow. If you had said "She", I would have sworn you were writing about me... Nice one, Caro.
Yeah, I could say the same. 😏
Day shift-Fiction
He guarded the gateway to the square, polished granite building. Everyone who visited had gray skin and drooping mouths and a man with a yellow mustache visited every other Sunday, holding a bottle of jack. He spoke once and his breath was sour. “Boys should know when to retreat.”
A great story with vivid details. Thanks so much for sharing with us!
Thanks for having me. This 50 word prompt is so fun and I'm glad I found it.
Gray skin and drooping mouths! Eeuw! Hey, I think I know these guys.
Gateway to Good - Fiction
She sat alone on a park bench, tears trickling down her face. A stranger stopped, sat down and gently handed her a tissue.
A tiny droplet of goodness rushed into her neuropathways, bursting through the gateway of her mind and flooding her thoughts with serotonin, oxytocin, and dopamine. Be kind.
A beautiful, solitary moment of kindness. The world needs more interactions like the one you’ve shared. Thank you, Heather. 🙏
So glad you jumped in here, Heather. I knew you would be good at it.
I should be working on KM ha ha!
Yeah, I understand. I should be scrubbing the shower. But, no.
Ha ha. Good one!
Crushed (fiction)
The headlines infuriated him. ‘Tinpot Dictator’. He’d show them. Victory Gate. A shimmering edifice inlaid with the gold teeth of enemies crushed under the tracks of creaking tanks. The dais, at his command, was placed 202 feet from the 202 foot high monument to his hubris. The archway swayed ominously.
My goodness, Barrie. Your “fifties” keep getting better and better. It amazes me how you are able to create such vivid scenes/details in such a limited space. I could see the entire story unfold before me. That’s quite a feat, and again, you’ve nailed it! Great job!
I agree - when I read Barrie's entries, I find myself thinking "was that really only 50 words?" Magic.
Wow, that’s so lovely. I’m using these to sharpen up my editing, ‘killing my babies’ as Stephen King would say, cutting out the excess. Thank you for the encouragement.
Nothing like a 50 word limit to spur linguistic culling!
I love the freedom of the constraint! Superfluous words perish!
Well, that is VERY kind, Justin. Last night I actually wrote it ‘by the fire’ which must be the secret!
Ah, now that sounds lovely. You might be on to something! 😊
For E.O.W., Creative Nonfiction
The old biology professor gave his eager freshmen students a wry smile. “The gateway to knowledge is curiosity,” he drawled. “We call ourselves Homo sapiens: man who knows. What we forget is, the gateway to conservation is love. We protect what we love. I will teach you to love nature.”
A very neat take on the prompt, Chele! I’d love to know more about this professor. Thanks so much for sharing!
Wonderful.
The Fossil, Science Fiction
Dr. Blake had never seen a fossil like this one.
The bones lay in a spiral, twisting like a calcified whirlpool around remnants of THE meteorite.
Except, it wasn't a fossil at all. It was a gateway.
The dinosaurs weren't extinct, they were just hidden.
Earth shifted; the past awakened.
Oh, this is so much fun, Chris. I went a similar route…couldn’t pass up the chance! 😄 That last line makes me want to dive in further! Excellent, as always.
Thank you! Yep I couldn't pass it up. Might even be the opener to a longer story; need to find a way to write a dinosaur central story at some point!
Now that sounds like a great idea! You should! What’s that Ray Bradbury short story about dinosaurs…can’t think of the title. It’s a good one, though.
I'll check that out! Was looking at a collection of his and Isaac Asimov's stories; love their commitment to the short form.
Agreed, they’re masters of their craft! The story is called “A Sound of Thunder.”
Will check that out!
The Gateway • Fiction
The teen entered the library. His first time in one. He checked his phone screen again.
“This can’t be right,” he said to the woman behind the desk.
“Are you playing The Gateway?” the woman asked.
“Yes. This is supposed to be The Gateway.”
“It is. The gateway to imagination.”
Lovely story, Mark! I hope the teen chooses to stay and explore. I think he will.
Hopefully.
Fabulous.
Thanks. 🤓
The misdialed exchange ( fiction )
The voice at the other end of the gateway of communication sounded rejuvenating but not recognizable to her initial annoyance. As she was about to hang up, she heard some music in the background. "You sound great even when annoyed".
Impatience and music created long distance harmony. They exchanged numbers.
Nice one, Sunil!
I am honored!
Passing Chances, fiction
You’d think you’d know one when you saw it. She asks, “are you going my way?” You had to get home. Years later, “we think you’d be a great fit.” You declined, worried you weren’t up to the challenge. So many gateways missed by not looking. Are you ready now?
Love this, Stephanie. It carries an important message. And it makes me want to dive into this character’s backstory even more!
Thanks! Now, for how to glimpse backstory in 50 words…off to do more reading!
Haha! There isn’t a whole lot of wiggle room with these fifty-worders, is there? 🤣 Sometimes I think these micro tales can stand on their own, and other times they act as springboards with the potential to catapult us into longer stories. I think yours works beautifully as a standalone but could evolve into a longer story. Like Barrie said, there’s so much simmering beneath its surface! Kudos to you! 😊
Touching. You want to know more about this person. There’s a melancholy below the surface, I feel
Thanks!
The Second Gateway, CNF.
We do not choose the first, we delay as best we can the third. The second gateway is life day to day. Beyond the gate are green grasses and your dreams and also wrecking balls and screams. Knowing the gate can swing both ways, perhaps you've found your home today.
Choose wisely-Creative nonfiction
You stand before two gateways: one is the wide gate marked “Easy” and the second is a narrow gate marked “Caution, not frequently traveled.”
Choose wisely.
“because straight is the gate and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.” (Matthew 7:14 KJV)
Beautiful, GeorgeAnn. Two gateways always seem to linger before us with the choices we make! Thank you for sharing.
The Afternoon of The Not-Too-Flimsy Whimsy
"Dream a little dream on me"- Mama Cass
I went for takeaway, found no store.
A Gateway of Peach Ice Cream rose a mile or more.
At the top a tree sang,"Come up here
For a fun time now;
If you're too emo to enjoy yourself
We will show you how."
And we all started cllimbing. WOW!
Ernie Brill
They were my gateway. Teens from the housing project.
I loved them, took them places… to my mother’s retirement home.
Many die young in the Projects.
Darious, Phil… both killed at fifteen.
I find an old photo. I ask Destiny “Who IS this?!🤗”
“That was Josh”, she texts.
Was.
Such a sad reality, Karen. Thank you so much for sharing this somber slice of life.
Thank you so much for your empathy. ♥️ I realize I didn’t really explain why they were my gateway or what they were a gateway to.🤦♀️ They were my gateway to understanding an unfamiliar area of the city and the bravery of the people there amidst many challenges. Thanks Justin!
Oh I thought you delivered that message beautifully. I can feel the impact they left on your life! 🙏 I used to teach many students with similar backgrounds and similar stories. I’ll never forget them!
Oops! Forgot to say True Story, non-fiction
No worries whatsoever!
No need to apologize! These stories come out of nowhere sometimes. It’s incredibly dark, but it’s an excellent story. We need these as much as we need the lighthearted ones.
Thanks Justin. It was too bleak. I deleted it. I thought it spoiled the mood.
They are your words to do with what you wish! No worries either way, my friend.
"The only sure thing she senses is that her life, now, will be forever changed."
Tragic, but true. Powerful stuff, Bassano.
Thanks, Mark. I decided to delete it. I appreciate your vote of confidence though!
Oh boy! This is deep! Dark too but very good.
Thanks, Caro. I changed my mind, though, and just posted it on 🍁Leaves. It didn't seem appropriate here. A little too dark.