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 (or poem, or work of CNF — whatever you want!) that focuses on a parent/child relationship or a parent/child interaction. Your story can focus on a single moment or span a lifetime.
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: Off the Trail, Fiction)
The title does not factor into the word count.
Good luck and have fun. Happy writing!
Special thanks to John Lightle for providing “Duck Calling With My Sons” 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.
Times Change but the Song Remains the Same – Fiction
Melissa remembers when her father tucked her in at night. He read books, told stories, and even sang. “Blackbird” by the Beatles comes to mind. His voice was deep, smoky.
Now it’s her turn. She tucks him in, kisses his bald, wrinkled head, and hums the same tune.
Haha, I love this. What a fun structure. It’s great how you bring it full circle. It takes on a whole new meaning as a parent. Sometimes I say, “Shoot...what’s for dinner?” 🤣
The campfire crackled as my terminally ill father shared family stories with my teenage son. The Milky Way above us witnessed the transfer of traditions. My chest puffed up with pride at my son’s rapt attention, until the final story.
Whoa! Whaaat?! Come on, Jenise! That’s a heck of a twist, and I was not expecting it at all. Chills. I love everything about this story. The Milky Way sentence is simply stunning. One of your best, my friend! You should send this off to Fifty Word Stories! ✨
What an important reminder this story is for so many of us. The line/simile “stumbling through rooms like a ghost haunting the wrong house” stands out to me - very powerful and poetic! Great job, Tiffany!
“What did I tell you?” Sandra asked her daughter, who climbed all the way up the tall bookshelf, pushing hardcovers to the floor. “You’re going to fall and hurt your leg!”
“But I’m a kitty,” Emily insisted.
“You’re not a kitty. You’re a human girl in a lot of trouble!”
I love everything about this. The mother’s response is absolutely perfect! It sounds like they’ve been down this road quite a few times. 🤣 Great story!
Any parent who reads this will immediately connect! It’s spot on, especially the last line. This is a nightly conversation at my house with my daughter. I always try to remind myself that these days will be gone before I know it...so I reach for the next book, ha! 😄 Loved your memoir, Sharron.
In my mind it is still May. My father had not yet begun vehemently dying. I’m mapping a road trip to Quebec—girls’ weekend—and the phone hadn’t yet rung and the nurse hadn’t said, can you come, your father…but then, even then, I knew. There would be no Quebec.
Oh, man! This is intense, Leigh! I can see this evolving into a page-turner of a story if you decide to expand on it. Excellent stuff! Thanks so much for sharing. 🙌
Wow, Julia, this gave me a lump in my throat. I can only echo Sharron’s sentiments: keep going, keep writing, and continue to be courageous! Your writing is beautiful and honest. I hope we get the chance to see more of it “by the fire”!
On a cold, wind-lashed March day, we march barefoot onto the sand, heralded by honking geese, on pilgrimage to dip our winter-dry feet into the Hudson. I smile up at my tall son. “When you’re grown, you’ll have to migrate back and dip a toe in, so spring can start.”
That is some cold water! What a beautiful retelling of this ritual. Which side of the river do you live on, Chelle? I’m on the eastern side. Maybe I’ll pass on your tradition to my kids someday.
Hi, Justin. I"m on the East side too, at about mile marker 40. Grew up spending summers further up the river, by Albany and Saratoga Springs. Thanks for the kind words. It's nice to know another river loving writer! (And yeah, in March, the water is pretty cold. We don't stay in long. I have no aspirations for Polar Bear Club membership!)
How neat. Yes, likewise! I’m further north, not too far away from the Kingston/Rhinecliff Bridge. Upstate NY is beautiful in the summertime, especially that region!
Times Change but the Song Remains the Same – Fiction
Melissa remembers when her father tucked her in at night. He read books, told stories, and even sang. “Blackbird” by the Beatles comes to mind. His voice was deep, smoky.
Now it’s her turn. She tucks him in, kisses his bald, wrinkled head, and hums the same tune.
He smiles.
😭🥺... so good... I think some sand flew in my eye.
Thanks, Brian! Ah, okay, come here, man... *gives hug*
This reminds me of the children's book "I love you forever". Guaranteed tear jerker for new parents. 🥲
Yes. Lovely book, Meg. For OLD parents, too ( As long as I'm living my Mommy you'll be...)
Anyone got a kleenex? That last line killed me. I lived it and know exactly how it feels. One of your best.
When you’re finished with them can you hand em back my way? I’m sorry. 😢 But thank you for the kind words, Sharron.
Great job Justin. Perfect circle of life story
Thank you, Scott!
This sure got me in the "feels". Love the story, and I love "Blackbird"! :-)
Thanks, Jenise! Me too. 🎶😊
The Circle of Life - it's certainly something
“What’s for dinner?”
“Can I go play next door?”
“How much do the toys cost?”
“Do I have to do my homework?”
“What’s for dinner?”
“Should I apply to college?”
“Can I marry your daughter?”
“Is it a boy or girl?”
“Mom! What’s for dinner!?”
Seriously though, what’s for dinner?
Haha, I love this. What a fun structure. It’s great how you bring it full circle. It takes on a whole new meaning as a parent. Sometimes I say, “Shoot...what’s for dinner?” 🤣
Thanks for sharing, Claire!
Father's Stories | Fiction
The campfire crackled as my terminally ill father shared family stories with my teenage son. The Milky Way above us witnessed the transfer of traditions. My chest puffed up with pride at my son’s rapt attention, until the final story.
That’s when I found out I’m not my father’s son.
Whoa! Whaaat?! Come on, Jenise! That’s a heck of a twist, and I was not expecting it at all. Chills. I love everything about this story. The Milky Way sentence is simply stunning. One of your best, my friend! You should send this off to Fifty Word Stories! ✨
Bah, ha ha ha! Yeah, this story "gets me" every time I read it. I wrote it in 2020.
Good suggestion for submission. I will send it to FWS. It's been awhile since I've submitted a story to Tim. Hope he'll accept it.
Thank you, Justin! 😊
Haha, of course! And yes!! Good luck with the submission. Keep us posted! 😀
Here's the news! What did Tim decide??
https://jenisecook.substack.com/p/fathers-stories
Lover the twist too. Good job.
Thank you, Scott!
Feel free to visit my publication. More 50 word stories there!
Thank you again for another prompt!
The Beholder, CNF
She says you're beautiful and you try to see what she sees.
Your eyes, red and puffy as if you'd been crying all night.
Mouth dry. Skin-- dryer. Stumbling through rooms like a ghost
haunting the wrong house. You touch your face. Check for realness.
It's there. You are beautiful.
Of course - and thank you for sharing!
What an important reminder this story is for so many of us. The line/simile “stumbling through rooms like a ghost haunting the wrong house” stands out to me - very powerful and poetic! Great job, Tiffany!
This Again, Fiction
“What did I tell you?” Sandra asked her daughter, who climbed all the way up the tall bookshelf, pushing hardcovers to the floor. “You’re going to fall and hurt your leg!”
“But I’m a kitty,” Emily insisted.
“You’re not a kitty. You’re a human girl in a lot of trouble!”
I love everything about this. The mother’s response is absolutely perfect! It sounds like they’ve been down this road quite a few times. 🤣 Great story!
Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it. It’s inspired by a girl I went to Kindergarten with who often pretended to be a cat in class.
Haha, that’s hilarious! 🤣 My brother pretended to be a wolf for a solid year while growing up, so I completely understand. 🐺
BED TIME, THREE YEARS OLD - memoir by Sharron at 🍁Leaves
Sing the horsie song, Mommie. Sing the train whistle song. Sing the rain song.
Time to sleep now, honey.
Read me cat in a hat. Read me mister toad. Read me the rabbit book.
Time for sleep now, my little man.
I need a drink of water, Mommie. Please?
Sigh...
Any parent who reads this will immediately connect! It’s spot on, especially the last line. This is a nightly conversation at my house with my daughter. I always try to remind myself that these days will be gone before I know it...so I reach for the next book, ha! 😄 Loved your memoir, Sharron.
Great job as usual.
Where Are The Ducks, Fiction
“Dad, how long do we have to sit before we’ll get some ducks?” asks Kenny.
“It shouldn’t take too long.”
“I’m tired of sitting here,” exclaims Bobby.
“Silence”, their father whispers.
He continues, “You don’t want to scare the ducks away.”
“They can hear us?”
“Yes, they can. Now quiet.”
Matthew, great story! You capture the moment in time so beautifully. I can see the scene unfold before my eyes. Thanks for sharing with us!
I expanded this story into a longer story. I don't know if you saw it yet. Here is part 1:
https://matthewmurray.substack.com/p/where-are-the-ducks
Matthew, I’m sorry, I must have missed that note in my inbox. I just read your story and really enjoyed it! Thank you so much for sharing!
No problem. Sometimes I lose track of so many newsletters in my inbox too. Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Girls' Weekend | CNF
In my mind it is still May. My father had not yet begun vehemently dying. I’m mapping a road trip to Quebec—girls’ weekend—and the phone hadn’t yet rung and the nurse hadn’t said, can you come, your father…but then, even then, I knew. There would be no Quebec.
Heartbreaking and beautifully written, Amie. 💔 🙏
What’s That? - Fiction
“Dad, what the heck is that?” Corinne asked?
“It’s called a waterspout. It’s a tornado on the ocean.”
“What! It’s coming our way!”
“We’ll be fine, dear. It’s miles away.”
“I don’t know… looks like it’s getting closer!”
“Trust me.”
The boat’s loudspeaker crackled, “Life preservers are under your seat.”
Yikes! Now that would be terrifying: This feels like it could be the opening scene of an adventure story. Great stuff, Scott, really enjoyed it!
Holy cow!! Sometimes parents can't be trusted. Nice writing, Scott.
A Distress Call - Thriller
An unknown number. I almost ignore it, but some instinct tells me to answer.
"Hello?"
Ragged breathing on the other end, then a voice on the edge of panic. A voice I hadn't heard in years.
"Mom?"
"Kayla? Where are you?"
"Uh, Edwards Fillin' Station?"
"Where?"
"Oh shit, he's here--"
Oh, man! This is intense, Leigh! I can see this evolving into a page-turner of a story if you decide to expand on it. Excellent stuff! Thanks so much for sharing. 🙌
Coming Out
What do you do
when your parents broke you
in one moment’s time
and you realize silence was better than speaking at all
you thought it would be a weight off your shoulders
but it was actually better as the elephant in the room
do you pray like they do?
Wow, Julia, this gave me a lump in my throat. I can only echo Sharron’s sentiments: keep going, keep writing, and continue to be courageous! Your writing is beautiful and honest. I hope we get the chance to see more of it “by the fire”!
Thank you Justin!!
This piece is very moving. I hope it is not autobiographical, and if it is, I wish you courage. Thank you.
Thank you Sharon! I loved your piece (: This one is definitely CNF LOL
You are not alone, Julia. Which is tragic to say, but hopeful. Keep writing. In my opinion, it is the best therapy.
River Ritual/CNF
On a cold, wind-lashed March day, we march barefoot onto the sand, heralded by honking geese, on pilgrimage to dip our winter-dry feet into the Hudson. I smile up at my tall son. “When you’re grown, you’ll have to migrate back and dip a toe in, so spring can start.”
That is some cold water! What a beautiful retelling of this ritual. Which side of the river do you live on, Chelle? I’m on the eastern side. Maybe I’ll pass on your tradition to my kids someday.
Thank you so much for sharing! 🙏
Hi, Justin. I"m on the East side too, at about mile marker 40. Grew up spending summers further up the river, by Albany and Saratoga Springs. Thanks for the kind words. It's nice to know another river loving writer! (And yeah, in March, the water is pretty cold. We don't stay in long. I have no aspirations for Polar Bear Club membership!)
How neat. Yes, likewise! I’m further north, not too far away from the Kingston/Rhinecliff Bridge. Upstate NY is beautiful in the summertime, especially that region!