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, creative non-fiction, poetry) that follows one of these three ideas. Your “fifty”. . .
is written in the first-person point-of-view (I).
is written in the second person point-of-view (you).
uses the phrase “You and I”.
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: Birdsong, Fiction)
The title does not factor into the word count.
Good luck and have fun. Happy writing!
Special thanks to John Lightle for providing “You and I” 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.
Tongue Tied, Fiction
Benny butchers the opening and stumbles through the next few sentences. He begins to sweat.
“You still there?” she asks.
“I’m here. I guess what I’m trying to say is—I’ve been thinking a lot, lately. . . thinking about you and I.”
He can hear her smile. “Me too.”
Lily of the Field, prose poem
Out in the farthest pasture, minding the drowsy cows, I take off all my clothing, and fold it neat. I lie in a grassy bed to call forth a daydream. I am a lily of the field today, an open blossom, bathed in the gift of sunlight from the All-providing.
Decisions, Decisions (non-fiction)
I wrote something. Not my usual style. Suggestive perhaps. Salacious, probably. You and I might differ on its appropriateness. It’s edgy. If it’s risqué then it’s more implied than blatant. Different but that’s okay. How will it be received? We will find out together. Publish and be damned, I say.
On The Left (Fiction)
Your finger traced the letters of the glittering new plaque on your favourite bench. It simply read ‘In Loving Memory of You and I’.
“An epitaph we can all relate to,” you said.
With a deep sigh, you brushed away the leaves and took your regular place on the left.
Difficult to understand… with our puny brains.
I believe somebody’s got it figured out though.
Let’s call him Jack.
Jack wants us to have FAITH.
We are ONE,
You and I.
ONE with parts, like a body, a house, a car, or a tree.
Sharing a Life
You and I live side by side
In a great big house on wheels.
We don’t need much,
So we sold most stuff,
And the new stuff was bought with deals.
Our place is tiny, that’s for sure
But it works for us
With love so true!
Powerful visuals here, Alixandra. I especially like the line “...fades to a drying mirage”. That will stick with me. Thank you for sharing!
The Story of Us (fiction)
You and I on opposite sides of the bench.
Your nose in a book as I pretend not to notice your glances my way. Morning five of me sitting here as you’re over there starting the same story over again. Maybe today we start our own. “Hi, my name is ...”
Second Person Hallucination (Fiction)
You’re worthless. She’ll never love you. And you shouldn’t take those pills.
You’re disgusting and ugly. She hates you. She’s told the doctors to poison you. So don’t take those pills.
You took the pills, didn’t you? What will you do now you can’t hear me? Oh. Kiss her. Hmmph.
Raw Talent, Creative Nonfiction
I watched you coax people to knock over glass bottles. You sang, chattered, taught, performed, the Fair’s blue-ribbon raconteur. I said, “You’re really good at this. Did you major in Communication?” You got shy; murmured, “I started a long time ago. Maybe I’ll go back. Yeah, maybe I’ll go back.”
You and I, poetry
You and I can change the world if we could just get out of our own way.
With You and Yours and Me and Mine the world will open up to find
That what's wrong has come from Us Alone and We Alone can make it right.
Sylvia turned on the voice recorder. 'It's just you and I." She glanced around the dark room. "I'm listening."
Where had I heard that before? Oh, yeah, from every ghost hunter. Yet when I spoke, they ran. Will she be different? One way to find out.
The recorder crackled, "Hello."
You and I. We run together. Splitting the dark night into ribbons of quicksilver, moonlight filling in the channels we cut through the black. Are we beautiful? Our muzzles dripping blood and saliva, teeth glinting like knives. From our destruction comes growth. We are dreadful equilibrium, you and I.
~I See You~
I see you
From across the room
A room full of people
I don't see them
I see only you
I can't stand to be near you
When forbidden to touch
I only want you
Until I open my eyes and
Everything, Short Story Excerpt
It lifted your spirit to feel his gaze on you. Warmed you from the inside out. There were words you wanted to say but couldn’t.
They were selfish.
But they were everything.
I wanted you. I loved you. For that I’ll never be sorry.
sharing lit and writing ideas is part of what live and give the eagles a taste for breakfast/
great to hear. If I can be of any help with promptsthat worked well, poems ,short short stories, or reading recommendations,especially antiracisms, let me know.
"The Quest" A Fable (Prose Poem)
In the beginning, I was the termite on the Tree of Knowledge. I know this when my son poses question after question. Yesterday, caught in the rain, horse chestnuts dropping on our heads.
In the distance, our trusty woodswoman responds with two fiery arrows from her little red bow.
that's ok. Let me know how your classroom's going. And if you need any short short stories/poems and what the content is. It's one of the things I excel at, and I have some examples
I goofed. His name is John warner and he had many interesting comments on books, schools, the current attacks on us sane literate folks by that fascistic DeSatanc Santos cabron.
eventide || not quite haiku
i run to you in moonlight
the wind takes away my words
sorry- I got the name wrong. it is JOHN WARNER. If you dont pay his feel you are not in any way allowed to comment. How unamerican is THIS?