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 uses the words root, flower, and stem. You’re allowed to use any variation of the words. If you’re up for the challenge, use all three—but if you want to focus on one or two of the prompt words, that’s fine, too.
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: A Dandelion Wish, Fiction)
The title does not factor into the word count.
Good luck and have fun. Happy writing!
Special thanks to John Lightle for providing “Waiting on the Train” 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.
Raul was new. He didn’t speak English; Rebecca knew little Spanish.
Rebecca reviewed roots and stems, common nouns and verbs. Tenses. Raul worked hard and followed his tutor’s instructions. The two high schoolers often laughed together.
One day, Raul brought her flowers. Rebecca kissed him. Maybe words weren’t always needed.
Oh for heaven's sake, Justin! How romantic! As a teacher of English to immigrants myself, this touched me in a very soft place. I love that the word "tenses" stands alone... I don't know why. Thank you for a fine, nostalgic start to my day.
I love this, Sharron. I’m in awe that you were able to cover so much ground in fifty words! It’s amazing that three simple words sparked this work. Are you interested in genealogy or family history? I did a deep dive a few years ago and had so much fun learning about my ancestors.
I spent over a year of concentrated effort to unearth my direct lines. Fascinating that there is so much personal information out there. I would like to continue, but it is SO time-consuming and one becomes a bit obsessed. I was buried in the past for months. I would rather write...
The information is out there in very well-kept records. It is an absolutely engrossing project. One becomes a detective. Fair warning: You will get NOTHING else done once you start the search. No time for writing.
When I was a child, my grandmother said that her backyard rhurbarb patch—from root to stalk to stem—was sacred. She said, "It's always been there. My grandmother spoke of it. Her grandmother spoke of it. So when it flowers, I remember that it has always flowered for us."
This is beautiful, Sherman. The rhubarb patched blessed your family for a very long time. I imagine the story at its core remained intact and true as it was passed down over the years.
A beautiful story showing the importance of each part and how all are connected. I love how it reads like a folktale or fable, too. Excellent stuff! Thanks for writing and sharing it, Teague!
My fingers were flying over the buttons of my TI-84 Plus. My eyes flitted from the pencil scrawled across my page to the calculator cursor. My heart dropped. There, between the x squared and the cosine, was supposed to be a square root. My integral was ruined. Thirty minutes wasted.
Haha! Before I even read the story “straight up memoir” made me laugh. Ooof. A grueling thirty minutes, only to go back and redo, I imagine! That’s brutal. 😅 Math was always my least favorite subject, so I felt this one in my soul. Thanks for sharing, Claire!
What I know about math, Claire, is nothing! But I understood the heart-dropping outcome perfectly. How many times have I accidentally hit "send" to the wrong person, or hit "delete" instead of "save" or erased my photos, or so many ways to lose time and work. Nice writing! Glad I am not the only one.
Teddy leaned over and held the dahlia’s stem like a microphone with both hands as if to serenade the audience. He swung flower up high to pronounce "I did it myyyy waaayy." I wasn't sure if I should be impressed or concerned or both when I heard mom yelling, “TEDDY!!”.
Haha! I wonder how many times this has happened before to Teddy. I listened to the song before reading and it gave me an even clearer picture of Teddy belting it out. A fun story, thanks so much for sharing! 😊
May 12, 2023·edited May 12, 2023Liked by Justin Deming
Subterranean by nature? Nurture? The roots of George’s behavior stem from childhood – flowering forty odd years later. George rarely requests – scolded as a boy for, “May I have (_____), please?” And, timely as a Bulova clock because, “Can’t you see we’re running late?” Awakening, he chooses which blooms he keeps.
You're welcome, Justin. I faithfully followed the... tpmorp, admittedly, in a slightly different manner than on other occasions. Happy Sunday over there.
Language Barriers, Fiction
Raul was new. He didn’t speak English; Rebecca knew little Spanish.
Rebecca reviewed roots and stems, common nouns and verbs. Tenses. Raul worked hard and followed his tutor’s instructions. The two high schoolers often laughed together.
One day, Raul brought her flowers. Rebecca kissed him. Maybe words weren’t always needed.
Oh for heaven's sake, Justin! How romantic! As a teacher of English to immigrants myself, this touched me in a very soft place. I love that the word "tenses" stands alone... I don't know why. Thank you for a fine, nostalgic start to my day.
Thank you, Sharron! I’m happy you liked this one. 😀
I love this! The inclusion of them laughing together made me really happy.
Thank you, Claire!
Nice work using all 3 words. Bonus points for the allusion to language.
Thank you, Amie! 😄
DIRECT LINE, prose poem
The roots of my ancestors lie 1,000 years deep within the frozen soil of Norway.
The Heimskringla, a saga of kings, tells of the sturdy stems of Vikings - fearless, prideful and rapacious.
Would they be disappointed to learn that their DNA now flowers in me — the least of all warriors?
I love this, Sharron. I’m in awe that you were able to cover so much ground in fifty words! It’s amazing that three simple words sparked this work. Are you interested in genealogy or family history? I did a deep dive a few years ago and had so much fun learning about my ancestors.
I spent over a year of concentrated effort to unearth my direct lines. Fascinating that there is so much personal information out there. I would like to continue, but it is SO time-consuming and one becomes a bit obsessed. I was buried in the past for months. I would rather write...
I love this, Sharron! I come from vikings, and now you've made me want to go dig up some family history!
The information is out there in very well-kept records. It is an absolutely engrossing project. One becomes a detective. Fair warning: You will get NOTHING else done once you start the search. No time for writing.
Generations: Fiction
When I was a child, my grandmother said that her backyard rhurbarb patch—from root to stalk to stem—was sacred. She said, "It's always been there. My grandmother spoke of it. Her grandmother spoke of it. So when it flowers, I remember that it has always flowered for us."
This is beautiful, Sherman. The rhubarb patched blessed your family for a very long time. I imagine the story at its core remained intact and true as it was passed down over the years.
Thanks so much for writing and sharing!
The Marriage Stem
Flower was beautiful, reaching at the sun. Root was sturdy, pulling at nourishment.
A storm came: wind blew, rain fell. Flower was afraid, but Root held tight. The storm passed, and Flower was safe.
Stem connected them: Flower beauty and joy; Root strength and stability. Each essential to the whole.
A beautiful story showing the importance of each part and how all are connected. I love how it reads like a folktale or fable, too. Excellent stuff! Thanks for writing and sharing it, Teague!
I agree with Justin, I love that it reads like folklore. The title adds so much to this story as well!
Beautiful storytelling!
Growth Spurt, Fiction
Livvy sat beside the wilted plant.
“It's not growing.”
“Maybe the stem is too weak," her mother said.
Livvy nodded and left, returning with a stick.
She tied the stem to the plant and watered it deeply, down to the roots.
Days passed.
First came buds, then a flower bloomed.
Lovely, Carro! What a hopeful story of life and rebirth. 🌺
Oops, apologies for the typo, Caro!
Calc 2 - Straight up memoir 😂
My fingers were flying over the buttons of my TI-84 Plus. My eyes flitted from the pencil scrawled across my page to the calculator cursor. My heart dropped. There, between the x squared and the cosine, was supposed to be a square root. My integral was ruined. Thirty minutes wasted.
Haha! Before I even read the story “straight up memoir” made me laugh. Ooof. A grueling thirty minutes, only to go back and redo, I imagine! That’s brutal. 😅 Math was always my least favorite subject, so I felt this one in my soul. Thanks for sharing, Claire!
I'm glad you liked it Justin! 😁
What I know about math, Claire, is nothing! But I understood the heart-dropping outcome perfectly. How many times have I accidentally hit "send" to the wrong person, or hit "delete" instead of "save" or erased my photos, or so many ways to lose time and work. Nice writing! Glad I am not the only one.
Mom's Garden, Fiction
Teddy leaned over and held the dahlia’s stem like a microphone with both hands as if to serenade the audience. He swung flower up high to pronounce "I did it myyyy waaayy." I wasn't sure if I should be impressed or concerned or both when I heard mom yelling, “TEDDY!!”.
Haha! I wonder how many times this has happened before to Teddy. I listened to the song before reading and it gave me an even clearer picture of Teddy belting it out. A fun story, thanks so much for sharing! 😊
Subterranean by nature? Nurture? The roots of George’s behavior stem from childhood – flowering forty odd years later. George rarely requests – scolded as a boy for, “May I have (_____), please?” And, timely as a Bulova clock because, “Can’t you see we’re running late?” Awakening, he chooses which blooms he keeps.
Cleverly written! I really like how the ideas connect and come full circle. Thanks so much for sharing! 🙏
Thank YOU for offering the opportunity to work on my skills. 💜♥️💚
50 word stories are fun!!!
I’m happy you enjoy the fifty-word form! I love ‘em too. 😊
The Crazy Girl With The Paper Flower Tongue, Fiction
His memory from the first night they met was an amber haze for the most part.
Although he did remember her appetite for eating flowers from an upturned vase.
He had no inkling that she, The Crazy Girl With The Paper Flower Tongue, would be the one to fix him.
Chris, I’m sorry for missing this. Loved it! The last line is so powerful. I’m happy their paths crossed.
Thank you! As am I - I wrote this story about my wife ❤️
Ahh, this makes it ten times better!
(Fiction, 50w)
AARON RODGERS INTERVIEW, THE PAT MCAFEE SHOW, SEPT. 12, 2023 [PARTIAL TRANSCRIPT]
-Yanks pissed about that Mets hat? Some seek-
-Nay. People read backasswards... Connor?
-What’s your wildest N.Y. moment?
-That river plane-landing. Saw it televised, but must’ve been real.
-Like AJ’s underground tunnels…
-Hawk’s despicable.
-Yo, what craziness Jets fans bringin’?
-Actually, AJ suggested I ‘rewolf’ Central Park.
-Hawk, you menace!
🤣 Thanks for sharing this, Chris.
You're welcome, Justin. I faithfully followed the... tpmorp, admittedly, in a slightly different manner than on other occasions. Happy Sunday over there.