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) incorporating stars, a starry night, or a constellation.
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: Arena Roja, Fiction)
The title does not factor into the word count.
Good luck and have fun. Happy writing!
Special thanks to John Lightle for providing “Through a Hole in My Blanket” 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.
David says he watched them blink on, one at a time, like nightlights triggered by the velvet darkness. But for me, there were two skies that night. The one before David, and the one after. David’s hands. David’s lips. David’s eyes. Not on the stars, but on me. Just me.
Leonard stepped slowly and carefully. It wouldn't do to take a tumble at his age. His flashlight showed the way to the lawn chair he set up earlier that day. Leonard sat and cut the light.
Looking up, he took in the stars. "It won't be long, Elizabeth," he whispered.
Ahh, Mark, what a moving story. A man who has lived a full life, waiting for the next chapter of his journey. I can sense how eager he is for the reunion.
Jun 24, 2023·edited Jun 24, 2023Liked by Justin Deming
Yes. With many prompted stories, the prompt is the main focus. They feel like puzzle solving to me. There is nothing wrong with that. But I prefer the ones where the prompt is subtly included.
3am along the far north river I woke to the deep gronk of the heron flying downstream beneath the bright moonless stars. I searched them quick for his shadow passing, his voice a million years ago. He coulda been a pterodactyl and me an early man wondering: What is this?
Andrew, I really like the visual element of your poem. There are strong sensory details! The line about “a million years ago” made me pause and contemplate...it really does make you wonder, doesn’t it?
Thanks so much for stopping by and for sharing your poem! Such a neat take on the prompt.
On a cold night, she slunk away from her quarters and out onto the balcony. No matter how dim it was, she could always see the stars’ light, like drops of white paint in a pool of black.
Every night she gripped the railing, lest she jump to join them.
Blinking, stunned into silence. Where there had been a cacophony, there is quiet. Blinking at the stars. He’d heard it said, never understood. Lying, body stilled, eyes straight up, in the aftermath of the precise uppercut, he got it now. Seeing stars. On the sweat-stained canvas, he got it now.
Excellent story! I really enjoyed your take on the prompt. When I began writing my response, I almost went a similar route, then decided to go in a different direction. It’s fun seeing where all the stories land!
Call me contrary, but when I read the other (all excellent) submissions, the (quiet) rebel in me stirred up another take. I love the freedom of a word count constraint, paradoxical though that sounds. Delighted with the prompt. Have a great weekend
Jun 24, 2023·edited Jun 24, 2023Liked by Justin Deming
Looking For You--Fiction
I heard that when the good ones die, they become a star somewhere in the cosmos. I became an astronomer, certain that I was so familiar with your luminous soul that I would recognize you the moment I saw you in my telescope.
Lovely story, Jason, and equally sad. I can sense the narrator’s longing. To think someone would go to such a length to find their loved one...only to search fruitlessly. Powerful! Thank you for sharing!
We used to attend The Plough and Stars as an unknowing sort of pilgrimage, well before I ever knew of O'Casey's eponymous play, much less that AE had created the Starry Plough flag.
An extraordinarily kind gentleman took the time today to weave some of the missing stars together again.
I really enjoyed this CNF, Chris. Great work! I had to do some digging to understand the references, but now I’m intrigued by O’Casey’s work. Thanks a bunch for sharing!
Cheers, Justin! I'm glad you're intrigued. I was such an inspiration to have your 50s at the end of the day (here in Europe) as yesterday was a really good day for my literary research- as the story says, a practical stranger went out of his way to help me make a small breakthrough in my own literary research, which reminded me of that pub we used to visit back in the day...
even though I'd thanked him, I felt I could still make some sort of further gesture of appreciation. Thankfully, your contest appeared just minutes before I was to turn off the computer for the evening and there you go! Thanks again. I will be returning to some of these topics in a more academic way in my TLS newsletter later this year and next,
Jun 25, 2023·edited Jun 25, 2023Liked by Justin Deming
Everyday Enchantment, Fiction
It didn’t look like Van Gogh’s painting, the sky with it’s tiny speckles of light. No burning flames swirling brilliant orange and yellow. Instead, distant, cold white against the purple-black. More beautiful and strange than any artist could ever render.
I wondered if anyone would “go” the Van Gogh route with this prompt! Your story is beautiful and vibrant. It makes me want to know more about the narrator. Thank you for sharing your story here! I really enjoyed it.
My goodness, Tara, you managed to get me on the edge of my seat by the end of the first stanza. A scary scenario, but I’m thankful for the helmet (and responsible parent). I love your writing!
Thank you, Justin. Your prompt was a ton of fun. I think this is the first time I’ve written about this experience. The 50-word discipline and the subject of stars were perfect. Looking forward to your next round of play. 😊
‘Betelgeuse, stop that flaring,’ snapped Rigel. I’m the brightest, everyone knows that.
‘It’s this bloody club though. Old Orion’s been waving it over his head for three billion years and it’s knackered his shoulder. Which is me.’ Betelgeuse groaned. ‘It’s gonna go, I can feel it.’
Stars on television or was it 45?! What’s in a slip of the pen or tongue? Just your inconsequential take on the world. You’re no Steinbeck - are you? A software program could do the job just as well. Monkeys and typewriters always - the zoological gardens would be fine.
No worries, Marple! There are no real “rules” here. 😄 I’m reading this as a politically charged piece? I’m here for it! Love the fiery voice in this! Thanks so much for sharing.
Oh, nice prompt! 50 words? Hmm... a piece of magical fiction, mayhaps.
Starsand
Here, takes this vial. Starsand is the rarest of things, most wondrous. A single grain will light the night. My time has come. You are the Keeper now. You decide how much to spend. Each time you pour, you give life. Your star will shine while another fades into darkness.
For many nights it seemed the bright planet glowed at edge of horizon almost forlorn, aloof in his dominion. He asked around the sparse camps on dirt road and was told it was Mercury. She joined him there on the eve of that longest day, a nurturing wedge, bare skin like a leg draped over lover.
The tortured star’s sudden appearance, spraying our sky with plasma rainbows, opened eyes and minds.
A fantastical hypothesis captivates me: a monstrous gravitational entity powerful enough to capture a star and rend it asunder. It also explains the radiation.
If only we could peek beyond the tidal lock safety zone.
Cataclysm, Fiction
Yellowstone erupted on a calm Sunday morning.
“Daddy, when will the ash go away?” Max asked as we fled east.
I choked on words; nothing came out.
On the seventeenth night, stars reappeared. We held each other—hugged strangers in our impromptu roadside camp.
A small sliver of hope remained.
Where there is life, there is hope. Well done, Justin.
Agreed, Mark, and thank you very much for the kind words!
Hope dies last, they say. Lucky us, the scientists think another eruption is unlikely, although the chances are not zero, let's hope it won't happen!
Thanks so much for reading, Alexander! And yes, here’s to hope!
David's Eyes, Fiction
David says he watched them blink on, one at a time, like nightlights triggered by the velvet darkness. But for me, there were two skies that night. The one before David, and the one after. David’s hands. David’s lips. David’s eyes. Not on the stars, but on me. Just me.
Absolutely stunning, Meg. I loved this. There’s so much emotion packed in these fifty words! Thank you for sharing with us. ✨ 🙏
Thank you, Justin. For the kind words and for hosting! 50s by the 🔥 is the best.
Always a pleasure, my friend! Thank you. 😊
I like this. Great use of repetition, too.
Excellent.
Leonard Turns 93 (Fiction)
Leonard stepped slowly and carefully. It wouldn't do to take a tumble at his age. His flashlight showed the way to the lawn chair he set up earlier that day. Leonard sat and cut the light.
Looking up, he took in the stars. "It won't be long, Elizabeth," he whispered.
Ahh, Mark, what a moving story. A man who has lived a full life, waiting for the next chapter of his journey. I can sense how eager he is for the reunion.
It doesn’t get any more beautiful than that. ✨
Thank you so much for sharing!
Thank you, Justin. It's good to be back on the 50-word microfiction wagon.
And it’s great to have you here! They’re fun little puzzles to solve.
True. The hard part is making them not feel like solved puzzles.
Yes, exactly, I like the way you stated that!
Yes. With many prompted stories, the prompt is the main focus. They feel like puzzle solving to me. There is nothing wrong with that. But I prefer the ones where the prompt is subtly included.
LIGHT FROM AN UNKNOWN GALAXY / Prose Poem
The pale disk of the moon rose on the eastern horizon, casting its milky light upon the sea.
The soft tongues of waves licked the sands of the high tideline.
Sitting at the fire, under a black star-washed sky, they pulled their long robes close around them
against the chill.
Just so you know, I read and responded to this poem last night. For some reason it kicked my response to the bottom of the page! ✨
Hah! I found it.
Some things are universal.
3am, poem
3am along the far north river I woke to the deep gronk of the heron flying downstream beneath the bright moonless stars. I searched them quick for his shadow passing, his voice a million years ago. He coulda been a pterodactyl and me an early man wondering: What is this?
Andrew, I really like the visual element of your poem. There are strong sensory details! The line about “a million years ago” made me pause and contemplate...it really does make you wonder, doesn’t it?
Thanks so much for stopping by and for sharing your poem! Such a neat take on the prompt.
I like hearing that Justin :)
Campfire Tales, Fiction
One starry night around the campfire, my dad looked up after telling us another tale.
“Life is like a constellation; each star represents a memory. Some are bright leading us through darkness, while others disappear with time.”
He gazed at the sky, reliving a thousand memories, more stories to share.
Such grace in these words...
Love this, Caro. There’s nothing better than sitting around a campfire telling stories. A beautiful, nostalgic tale! Thanks for sharing! 😀
Star Lights, poem
Yes I have seen the stars like this before,
Dancing up and down and sideways in colors all their own.
They telescope in and out on the black skyscape,
a kaleidoscope of flashes and shimmers and spinning shards.
- - - I am so tired, I should not rub my eyes so hard.
Haha! A beautifully written piece with a funny twist at the end. Thanks for writing and sharing, James!
Thank you, Justin! These Fifties by the Fire are a great idea.
Starlight, Fiction
On a cold night, she slunk away from her quarters and out onto the balcony. No matter how dim it was, she could always see the stars’ light, like drops of white paint in a pool of black.
Every night she gripped the railing, lest she jump to join them.
Beautiful work, Myinc. I love the line “like drops of white paint in a pool of black.” I agree with Marple...very poetic!
Very poetic.
Stunned, Fiction
Blinking, stunned into silence. Where there had been a cacophony, there is quiet. Blinking at the stars. He’d heard it said, never understood. Lying, body stilled, eyes straight up, in the aftermath of the precise uppercut, he got it now. Seeing stars. On the sweat-stained canvas, he got it now.
Excellent story! I really enjoyed your take on the prompt. When I began writing my response, I almost went a similar route, then decided to go in a different direction. It’s fun seeing where all the stories land!
Thanks so much for taking part! 😀
Call me contrary, but when I read the other (all excellent) submissions, the (quiet) rebel in me stirred up another take. I love the freedom of a word count constraint, paradoxical though that sounds. Delighted with the prompt. Have a great weekend
That’s the joy of hosting these threads. The responses are wildly different, and it’s really neat to see the variety in style, form, and genre.
Thanks! Hope you have a great weekend, too.
Making time for writing to guarantee it's a good one.
There's a great generosity in hosting the threads ... we're pretty new to Substack but we're actively seeking the encouragers.
Looking For You--Fiction
I heard that when the good ones die, they become a star somewhere in the cosmos. I became an astronomer, certain that I was so familiar with your luminous soul that I would recognize you the moment I saw you in my telescope.
But the sky is much too big.
Lovely story, Jason, and equally sad. I can sense the narrator’s longing. To think someone would go to such a length to find their loved one...only to search fruitlessly. Powerful! Thank you for sharing!
Title: The Missing Stars (CNF)
We used to attend The Plough and Stars as an unknowing sort of pilgrimage, well before I ever knew of O'Casey's eponymous play, much less that AE had created the Starry Plough flag.
An extraordinarily kind gentleman took the time today to weave some of the missing stars together again.
I really enjoyed this CNF, Chris. Great work! I had to do some digging to understand the references, but now I’m intrigued by O’Casey’s work. Thanks a bunch for sharing!
Cheers, Justin! I'm glad you're intrigued. I was such an inspiration to have your 50s at the end of the day (here in Europe) as yesterday was a really good day for my literary research- as the story says, a practical stranger went out of his way to help me make a small breakthrough in my own literary research, which reminded me of that pub we used to visit back in the day...
even though I'd thanked him, I felt I could still make some sort of further gesture of appreciation. Thankfully, your contest appeared just minutes before I was to turn off the computer for the evening and there you go! Thanks again. I will be returning to some of these topics in a more academic way in my TLS newsletter later this year and next,
Everyday Enchantment, Fiction
It didn’t look like Van Gogh’s painting, the sky with it’s tiny speckles of light. No burning flames swirling brilliant orange and yellow. Instead, distant, cold white against the purple-black. More beautiful and strange than any artist could ever render.
He got back in his car and headed towards home.
I wondered if anyone would “go” the Van Gogh route with this prompt! Your story is beautiful and vibrant. It makes me want to know more about the narrator. Thank you for sharing your story here! I really enjoyed it.
Couldn't resist! But I waited to see if someone else would do it too...
I’m happy you went for it! I just saw your mention-heading over to your Substack now. Thank you so much! 🙏
I loved your story so much! I wanted other people to read it.
Your prompt is too tempting to pass up. Thank you for the brainteaser! :-).
The Good Helmet, poem
I rode behind him when he fell,
all twelve years of him,
hitting hard after flying
from his seat.
My son, the projectile,
landed with a crack
of helmet
and a shock
to his cushioned head.
For weeks I observed him
nervously
though he said he had seen
no stars.
✨
My goodness, Tara, you managed to get me on the edge of my seat by the end of the first stanza. A scary scenario, but I’m thankful for the helmet (and responsible parent). I love your writing!
Thank you so much for sharing your poem!
Thank you, Justin. Your prompt was a ton of fun. I think this is the first time I’ve written about this experience. The 50-word discipline and the subject of stars were perfect. Looking forward to your next round of play. 😊
I’m really happy you joined in. The fifty-word limit is always a fun challenge!
Awesome! I look forward to seeing you next time around. 😊
The Star Gazers, Fiction
“I count the stars too.”
It was Diane, Tommy's crazy chain-smoking neighbour. She was standing at the fence, looking up at the same night sky that Tommy was.
“Why?” he asked.
She smiled. “I want to make sure my family has plenty of friends up there too. Just like you.”
This story fits the theme perfectly! Thanks so much for sharing, Chris. One of my favorites of yours for sure! ✨
Thanks Justin. This is for sure one of the favourite things I've ever written - I eventually made it part of a longer short story. Which I also love.
Gertrude stretched out on her blanket staring at the midnight sky. She decided to wish upon a star.
"Dear star", she side, " I really wish Starlin would explain that Norwegian joke."
Me,too. I am too embarrassed to ask him...
Flare Up, Sci-fi
‘Betelgeuse, stop that flaring,’ snapped Rigel. I’m the brightest, everyone knows that.
‘It’s this bloody club though. Old Orion’s been waving it over his head for three billion years and it’s knackered his shoulder. Which is me.’ Betelgeuse groaned. ‘It’s gonna go, I can feel it.’
‘Don’t you dare…’
‘SUPERNOVA’
Haha! What a clever take on the story. Thanks for sharing and for the enjoyable read! ✨
Thank you so much. I hope I'll be a regular here.
That would be wonderful! 😀
Love this opening line! Very inventive 50 words. 😂
Thank you 🤩
Stars on television or
was it 45?! What's in a
slip of the pen or
tongue? Little to some
just your
inconsequential take on
the world. You're no
Steinbeck - are you? A
software program could
do the job just as well.
Monkeys and
typewriters - the
zoological gardens
would be fine.
Glastonbury?!
Wrong word count!
Stars on television or was it 45?! What’s in a slip of the pen or tongue? Just your inconsequential take on the world. You’re no Steinbeck - are you? A software program could do the job just as well. Monkeys and typewriters always - the zoological gardens would be fine.
No worries, Marple! There are no real “rules” here. 😄 I’m reading this as a politically charged piece? I’m here for it! Love the fiery voice in this! Thanks so much for sharing.
Thank you.
Yes it is abit. The voice is somewhat ‘Eliot’.
Oh, nice prompt! 50 words? Hmm... a piece of magical fiction, mayhaps.
Starsand
Here, takes this vial. Starsand is the rarest of things, most wondrous. A single grain will light the night. My time has come. You are the Keeper now. You decide how much to spend. Each time you pour, you give life. Your star will shine while another fades into darkness.
Neat concept! I love fantasy/all things magic, so this was right up my alley. Thanks a bunch for sharing!
Solstice Moon (fiction)
For many nights it seemed the bright planet glowed at edge of horizon almost forlorn, aloof in his dominion. He asked around the sparse camps on dirt road and was told it was Mercury. She joined him there on the eve of that longest day, a nurturing wedge, bare skin like a leg draped over lover.
Great story with a beautiful final line! Thanks so much for sharing, Appleton!
A Moon To You, Our World To Us | Fiction
The tortured star’s sudden appearance, spraying our sky with plasma rainbows, opened eyes and minds.
A fantastical hypothesis captivates me: a monstrous gravitational entity powerful enough to capture a star and rend it asunder. It also explains the radiation.
If only we could peek beyond the tidal lock safety zone.
Excellent story, Stephen! I’m blown away at the complexity and depth of the piece in only fifty words. I see a novel forming before my eyes!
This link includes the prompt for tomorrow, if interested (just scroll to the bottom). The prompt/thread will go live at 3:00 PM EST.
https://alongthehudson.substack.com/p/worlds-away
Thanks for your exceedingly kind words Justin. Having read the others I knew I had to lift my game.
50 words? That’s nuts! I thought Paragraph Planet was tough!
And now to include an abstract abalone? Game on, good sir.
Haha! The fifty-word form is a heck of a challenge, and to me, that’s what makes them so much fun to write!
Game on! 😄 The responses should be a lot of fun this week.
You did it again, Sharron. You transported me. Such a beautiful piece, so visual! I loved it start to finish. 👏
Thank you for sharing with everyone!