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 involves the theme/topic of transcendence. You do not need to use the word in the story, but you are allowed to do so if you wish!
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: Don’t Tell, Fiction)
The title does not factor into the word count.
Good luck and have fun. Happy writing!
Special thanks to John Lightle for providing “Hidden Figures” 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.
Clyde Bennington hikes to town once a month. He works an odd job or two, buys provisions, then heads back up the mountain.
August comes and goes. September, too. I’m curious—search for him. Find him.
His body has decayed but his notebook hasn’t.
"CRB: 2/2/50 – 8/24.
Alone. Wild. Free."
(Please note: In a perfect world, the final two lines would be italicized. There are some formatting constraints when posting a comment on Substack, so I made a slight change.)
Thanks Sharron. Lots of health struggles over the last year. I'm finally resurfacing, at least temporarily. I have another surgery to get through, but not for a few months.
Tibbs exhaled, exiting the Transcendental Meditation studio. He did feel transported to another level. He cold cocked the cashier and emptied the register trays.
The nearby instructor was horrified. “You are supposed to leave here on a different spiritual plane.”
Tibbs contemplated. “Yes, but nobody said it couldn’t be lower.”
The cute baby locked her eye's into his anxious gaze. He had just graduated into fatherhood. She cried out with hunger. He placed her gently onto nature's divine sustenance. The crawl was commando like. But before she could latch, her delicate fingers wrapped around his. He instantly felt transcendence bliss.
I pressed my back tightly to the standing stone. It was not the largest in the Circle. It was the closest in the rain muddied field. And I could feel them beside me; all the women through the ages, each asking the questions that haunted their hearts, as was I.
This is heartwarming, Susan, and beautifully written. Welcome aboard—it’s wonderful to meet you and great to have you here! John is an incredible photographer and an even better guy. How fun that your paths crossed—and ours, in turn! Thank you so much for sharing your story. Hope to see you around! 😊
He was the one. The doubter. He’d always trained by doing ‘proper sports’. Loudness masking his nervousness. Fuck yoga, he said, that first morning. Breathing class in the afternoon. Still muttering so I pushed him to focus. Watched the change come over him. Lifted from ‘here’ to ‘there’. Man reborn.
I loved this, Barrie! What a wonderful transformation, and great job covering so much ground in such a short space. There is healing power in yoga and meditation without question!
Such a good prompt and I really wrestled with ‘transcendence’ as a word. I couldn’t settle on something so the implication is of the character being lifted spiritually. It does come over a bit more like a transformation, for sure. Love a prompt that gets the grey cell going. I’m distracted by the story I need to finish for the Aesthetica Magazine Creative Writing Award. 2000 words to play with!
That’s exactly how I read your story! I thought it was brilliant. The wonderful part about the prompts is that there is no wrong direction. I love the variety and the different interpretations!
Charlie regarded Dave’s frightened face, remembering the years of transphobic bullying all through their high school years. Decades of pain dissolved, leaving only compassion as she saw only another mass-shooting victim who needed her help. His eyes closed and she removed the bullet from his chest, saving her bully’s life.
Free, fiction
Clyde Bennington hikes to town once a month. He works an odd job or two, buys provisions, then heads back up the mountain.
August comes and goes. September, too. I’m curious—search for him. Find him.
His body has decayed but his notebook hasn’t.
"CRB: 2/2/50 – 8/24.
Alone. Wild. Free."
(Please note: In a perfect world, the final two lines would be italicized. There are some formatting constraints when posting a comment on Substack, so I made a slight change.)
Very cool, Justin. I like Sharron's idea of exploring Clyde's notebook. Could be a goldmine.
Thanks, Jim! I hadn’t thought of that, but I will definitely explore it at some point and see what Old Clyde reveals to me. Love the idea!
Wow, Justin! That is such a BIG story for so few words. You are a genius at this short form. Now... let's get into that notebook, please!
Ahh, thank you, my friend. I wouldn’t go that far, but I appreciate your kindness. You are so encouraging!
What a great idea. I’ll dig in soon and let you know what I find!
Yep, we want to nose through that notebook too. A future ‘Fifties by the Fire’ prompt, perhaps.
Now we’re talking!
Looks like Clyde died as he lived. Transcendence indeed! Great story, Justin.
Aww, thanks Dascha! It’s great to see you. Heading over to your story now.
Very well done!
Thanks, Caro. Right back at you!
Wonderful!
Thanks so much, Sunil!
WATER LILY, poem
On a grassy bank, she bares her feet,
takes off her clothing, folds it neat.
She floats upon the mossy stream
and soon calls forth a waking dream.
She’s a waterlily! An open flower,
transcendent in this hidden bower.
Another sweet gift from The All-Abiding,
a blessing from The All-Providing.
This was beautifully written, Sharron! The rhythm and rhyming/rhyme scheme was very catchy.
Reading this poem brought me joy, Sharon. Thank you!
Nice to see your name again, Dascha! Glad you liked this little poem.
Thanks Sharron. Lots of health struggles over the last year. I'm finally resurfacing, at least temporarily. I have another surgery to get through, but not for a few months.
Love this.
I love this, Sharron.....The subject and the rhyming pattern. Perfect!
Love it!
What a neat poem!
Downward Dog (Fiction)
Tibbs exhaled, exiting the Transcendental Meditation studio. He did feel transported to another level. He cold cocked the cashier and emptied the register trays.
The nearby instructor was horrified. “You are supposed to leave here on a different spiritual plane.”
Tibbs contemplated. “Yes, but nobody said it couldn’t be lower.”
Haha! I love to be surprised like this.
Oh, for heaven's sake, Scott! That second line just knocked me out. Brilliant!
Many thanks. I guess I took the glass half empty approach😎
Nothing wrong in that.
Haha! This is brilliant. Excellent stuff, Scott!
Thank you, that means a lot. And thanks for coordinating, much appreciated.
Lol!
I love the twist in this story. It brought a smile. Thanks!
Thank you!
In God's Hands-poem
It’s in God’s hands,
I hear them say.
But what does that mean?
Does God look directly
On my needs?
Does he favor me
Over my neighbor
In a dispute?
I think not.
No, it is not for God to
Meet my expectations.
It is for me to meet His.
Lovely poem!
This is lovely and so apt for our times.
Very nice. Exactly right.
Beautiful!
Graduation Day
The cute baby locked her eye's into his anxious gaze. He had just graduated into fatherhood. She cried out with hunger. He placed her gently onto nature's divine sustenance. The crawl was commando like. But before she could latch, her delicate fingers wrapped around his. He instantly felt transcendence bliss.
Aww. The best feeling in the world. Beautiful, Sunil!
God's gifts can also lead to transcendence. I was in the labour room at the time of our kids. It's truly a heavenly experience...
Sweet. Brought me back more than a few years.
You capture a feeling I remember well from my time with my own babies and grandbabies!
Which is Nice, CNF
In the movie, Caddyshack, Carl Spackler talks about caddying for the Dalai Lama and asking him for a tip.
The Dalai Lama tells him there won’t be money, but he’ll receive total consciousness on his deathbed.
Carl Spackler ends with: “So I got that goin’ for me, which is nice.”
Sounds like a deal to me! (Now I may have to rewatch Caddyshack this weekend…)
It’s one of my husband’s favorite quotes. One of his quirks is repeating entire scenes in movies. 😊
We’d get along well! 😄
Gunga...gunga ga-dunga.
Big hitter, the Lama.
I don't remember that from the movie. It's been too long since I watched it. I guess it's time to watch again!
Great divine tip!
Exalted (CNF)
My spirit is strong, but my body no longer does what once came effortlessly. Like a caterpillar, I move slowly, longing to shed this earthly cocoon.
And one glorious morning, my soul will rise up and spread its wings. I’ll fly to the heavens, into the waiting arms of Jesus.
A lovely and powerful analogy.
The Circle, memoir
I pressed my back tightly to the standing stone. It was not the largest in the Circle. It was the closest in the rain muddied field. And I could feel them beside me; all the women through the ages, each asking the questions that haunted their hearts, as was I.
This is so well written, Annie, and so powerful. Thank you for sharing! 🙏
Shivers. This is so powerful!
thank you, Dascha. It was a very shivery experience. :)
Oneness, poem
We begin
Not understanding
Not knowing
We begin
With vibration
We navigate
Unknown threat
To body
To mind
To soul
We embrace
Good touch
Tender caress
We learn
To trust
Reach out
To rhythm
One soul
Two souls
Three souls
Four souls
And more
Until macrocosm
Beats with
One heart
What a thoughtful and creatively constructed poem—and what a beautiful message!
Thank you, Justin! And thank you for your 50-word challenges!.They are fun, and they are, indeed, a challenge!
I love it that we begin with vibration. I wonder if we will end with vibration...
One heart, one existence, non-duality - shunyata.
Baptized, CNF
Cradled in my mother’s warm embrace, I watch the pastor’s every move. He prays. He praises.
He cups my father’s hand in his and dips both in holy water. Three times, pouring Father, Son, and Holy Spirit over me.
I am cleansed, transcended. I am a new child of God.
(My first time here. I met John Lightle yesterday at an art show and he told me about this group. Inspired by real life at church today.)
This is heartwarming, Susan, and beautifully written. Welcome aboard—it’s wonderful to meet you and great to have you here! John is an incredible photographer and an even better guy. How fun that your paths crossed—and ours, in turn! Thank you so much for sharing your story. Hope to see you around! 😊
Beautiful. This reminds me of my children's christenings, though they were done at home.
Breathe (fiction or memoir, you decide)
He was the one. The doubter. He’d always trained by doing ‘proper sports’. Loudness masking his nervousness. Fuck yoga, he said, that first morning. Breathing class in the afternoon. Still muttering so I pushed him to focus. Watched the change come over him. Lifted from ‘here’ to ‘there’. Man reborn.
I loved this, Barrie! What a wonderful transformation, and great job covering so much ground in such a short space. There is healing power in yoga and meditation without question!
Such a good prompt and I really wrestled with ‘transcendence’ as a word. I couldn’t settle on something so the implication is of the character being lifted spiritually. It does come over a bit more like a transformation, for sure. Love a prompt that gets the grey cell going. I’m distracted by the story I need to finish for the Aesthetica Magazine Creative Writing Award. 2000 words to play with!
Also, best wishes with your other story and entry!
Many thanks … always good to push myself out of my comfort zone.
That’s exactly how I read your story! I thought it was brilliant. The wonderful part about the prompts is that there is no wrong direction. I love the variety and the different interpretations!
Always super kind and encouraging, thank you!
Transcendence, Fiction
Charlie regarded Dave’s frightened face, remembering the years of transphobic bullying all through their high school years. Decades of pain dissolved, leaving only compassion as she saw only another mass-shooting victim who needed her help. His eyes closed and she removed the bullet from his chest, saving her bully’s life.
Powerful, Dascha! It’s wonderful to read your writing again. Hope all is well!
Very. Nicely. Done.
Thank you so much!
Thanks!