Category Archives: Challenges and Writing Prompts

Twittering Tales #59 – 21 November 2017

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About the challenge: Each Tuesday I will provide a photo prompt. Your mission, if you choose to accept the challenge, is to tell a story in 280 characters or less. Wait….WHAT?! YES! You read that correctly. Recently, the sages at Twitter announced that they were doubling the character limit. So, of course I am passing this gift on to you! When you write your tale, be sure to let me know in the comments with a link to your tale.

A final note: if you need help tracking the number of characters in your story, there is a nifty online tool that will count for you at charactercountonline.com.

I will do a roundup each Tuesday, along with providing a new prompt. And if for some reason I missed your entry in the Roundup, as I have occasionally done, please let me know. I want to be sure to include your tale.

Finally, have fun!

And REMEMBER…you now have 280 characters (spaces and punctuation included), to tell your tales. I can’t wait to see what you do this week.


Twittering Tales #58 – The Roundup

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SkittersPhotos at Pixabay.com

Starting us off on this new format…the expanded Tweet!:

The Lady of Emerald Inlet
He was a young salt when the beautiful lady, with long flowing golden tresses and eyes deep as the sea stole his heart.
For 40 years he fished the brackish waters of the inlet hoping to see her again.
They say ‘twas old age that stopped his heart that night. Some say she returned.
(280 Characters)

From Reena at ReInventions:
It is the darkest night of the month, and my golden light shines brighter than the stars. I will see her tonight, in all her resplendent glory. The Moon fears competition, from her beauty and …………
CUT … learn your lines again. You missed ‘devotion in a lover’s heart’.
(275 characters)

From Di at Pensitivity101:
In the twilight of dusk he lit his lantern.
The townsfolk would soon be out to greet him and help him offload his cargo.
It had been a perilous journey, but worth it.
He’d saved fifteen lives, and once they were safely ashore, he was going back for more.
251 characters

From Michael at Morpethroad:
Three blinks.
Wait and see if she is home.
A blink back and I’m home and hosed.
It’s a tough way to run an affair,
But its magic when it happens.
Who’d a thought this old collection of skin and bones
still had life in it.
So hurry dear lady
I’d hate to start without you.
(264 characters)

From Fandango at This, That, and the Other:
The old man signaled to his friend on shore that he was safely aboard the ferry.
His wife had passed two months earlier and he knew it was time to leave behind the many memories of her that haunted his dreams.
Other than away, though, he didn’t know where he was going.
(268 characters)

From Leena at Soul Connection:
Feelings Of A Lonely Heart….
40Yrs Bck 1St Tym V Lit Lantern 2gtr.Nvr Tgt Dat Was Our Last Mtng.I Shldnt Hv Mstkn Ur Tears Ws Of Joy.
Dnt Knw Y U Lft Me,Bt I Knw Ur Lv Ws True,Dats Y U Gftd Me Lantrn N Tk Prmse 2Lit Evry Evng As Symbol Of Love
I B’lv 1Day U’l Cm Bck,Til Den I’l Kp Lightin Flame Of Love,ALONE.

From Jannat007 at Be Happy:
An old helmsman with winter-white hair and hunched back has a gloomy life. His wife passed away 6 years ago by falling from the ferry. Everynight in his dreams he heard his wife calling him for help. So he wake up in the middle of the night with a lantern to see if she’s there.
( 278 characters )

Salvation

They wander lost and forgetful in the great Void.
A sea of memories murmurs in their ears bringing regret.
The dead have lost hope of any salvation,
“Save us mighty Anubis” they cry brokenly.
Will He hear? The darkness and silence overwhelm.
Then Eternity is pierced by light,
He comes.
(280 characters)

From Willow at WillowDot21:
It was his life it always had been. His lamp in his hand he saw them off in the morning and he counted them back in the evening. He was the harbour light. Once they saw his lamp they felt home safe. Five generations he had taught. He was afraid to die, who would take his place.
280 characters

From Francine at Woman Walks Dog:
The Island
Love my visits to this island     a sneak peek at my Experiment
20 years now    secret commune with no rules
I watch it unravelling No one knows its here.
My voyeur fix for this year

Now that the nights were drawing in, Peter was unsure whether there would be enough light to see to complete a full 280 characters.
280, for goodness sake. He’d had trouble trying to write 140 each week. Never mind, he thought, I’ll just get the lamp lit to complete…….…….damn!
(280 characters)

From Kirst at Kirst Writes:
A Homecoming
Lights gleamed across the bay, just like all those years ago. I moored and hurried home. Light spilled out of the door, and there was my little girl, tall and frowning.

“Daddy!”
I went to hug her. She called again, turning back into the house:
“DAD! There’s a man at the door!”
(274 characters)

Wow! Everyone! I hope you had as much fun as I did spinning tales with the new character count limit! I agree with some of you. It was actually harder than the former 140 character tweets. The extra count actually allows you to spin more of a tale…but then there is that blasted limit! Some of you weren’t sure you could use a full 280 characters, but it is surprising how quickly one’s budget is depleted. I still found myself tweaking and retweaking to make it work. If you all had trouble, I certainly couldn’t tell by your final results. BRILLIANT!

As an aside, if you like the old format, that’s cool. It is perfectly fine to stay within the 140 character limit. But, if you have a bit more story to tell, it is definitely nice to have a few spaces left to fill. I am so happy you are hanging in there with me and continuing to give the challenge a go. Thank you for making my week! 🙂


I love the photo for this week’s challenge. The hands, the piano, the fact that is it black and white. I had toyed with the idea of doing a Thankgiving theme this week. We celebrate the holiday here in the U.S. But I happen to know that a few of you hail from across the pond so…if you are from my neck of the woods, i think it’s certainly possible to squeeze a “Thanksgiving-style” story out of this. And if not, I can imagine a number of lovely scenarios to go along with this beautiful photograph. The photographer goes by Pexels @ Pixabay.com. Have a lovely week wherever you are. And indulge me this…I am so thankful for all of you. Peace and Love!

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Hands by Pexels at Pixabay.com

Millie’s eyes sparkled as she gently lifted the fallboard of the baby grand, revealing its beautiful keys.

“Hello old friend,” she smiled as she sat down.

“Sarah, I need you to play your part,” Millie called to her granddaughter.

Sarah sat down, two fingers plunking.

‘Chopsticks’.

(278 Characters)

~kat


A Few Minutes

One of those Monday’s with few minutes to spare, and so, a few Minute poems (8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4/aabb, ccdd, eeff)for Jane Dougherty’s ‘A Month with Yeats’ – Day Twenty, Poetry Challenge inspired by the verse below from Yeats’ poem, ‘The Old Age of Queen Maeve’. The painting is IvanBilibin‘s illustration to a Russian fairy tale about the Firebird, 1899.

‘out of the dark air over her head there came

a murmur of soft words and meeting lips.’—W.B. Yeats

breath to death

in dim-lit sterile cells we wait
to meet our fate
the reeper’s sweep
our souls to keep

medicated interventions
good intentions
stripped dignity
dis-harmony

we rage against eternity
our destiny
is but a breath
to peaceful death

Branded

it’s comes to ‘do you believe them?’
all the women
nothing to lose
who claim abuse

for if you side with privileged men
know in the end
you’ll share their shame
for selfish gain

it really does come down to this
you can’t dismiss
you’ll wear the brand
of where you stand

~ kat


Praying…Not Praying

‘We who still labour by the cromlech on the shore,
The grey cairn on the hill, when day sinks drowned in dew,
Being weary of the world’s empires, bow down to you,
Master of the still stars and of the flaming door.’—W.B. Yeats

Praying…Not Praying

Those of us who have lost hope in praying,
pray that there is a special place in hell
for those self-righteous zealots in churches
defending vile monsters high on the hill.
Piously waving tomes filled with fables,
quoting their misplaced contextual creeds,
heaping full judgment on anyone other,
claiming compassion while lowly hearts bleed.
Surely a just god would be disgusted
by vacuous souls who claim him by name,
who pour salt on wounds; hang with abusers,
no tinge of conviction, remorse or shame.
If you are listening god, if you’re out there,
isn’t it time for your rapturous sweep?
Call forth your faithless; send them wherever.
If they’re not here we might actually know peace.

~kat

Another verse From ‘The Valley of the Black Pig’ for Jane Dougherty’s ‘A Month with Yeats – Day Nineteen’ poetry challenge. And it’s those pigs again! My poetry as a result, of late, seems more like rants. But I do find them cathartic. Living in this alternate reality is not for the faint of heart! Peace!


Valley of Forgotten Souls

Valley of Forgotten Souls

They hide inside layers of second hand clothes,
loudly conversing with monsters and demons,
roaming the streets, their treasure in buggies,
nightmares in flesh, they come out every evening.
Calamity haunts them wherever they travel.
Long since abandoned, no family or kin.
Begging for pennies with no place to call home.
Survival’s a game that so few of them win.
Outcast, these destitute vagabonds rally,
warming their hands at makeshift barrel fires,
bedding down in dark alleys; shelters of cardboard,
no dreams of a future where they can retire.
Where is the hope for these life-burdened souls?
Untreated insanity rattles their brains.
Could they be angels, to test our compassion,
or are they just people with forgotten names?

~kat

Almost didn’t make it in time for this week’s MindLoveMisery’sMenagerie Sunday Writing Prompt. But an encounter with a homeless man, screaming obscenities as he shuffled behind a shopping cart loaded with refuse and cardboard, gave me my heartbreaking inspiration. The prompt was to choose a title to write about. I chose “Valley of Forgotten Souls”. The photo is by Miriam’s-Fotos at Pixabay.com


Of Flying Pigs and Truffles

From “Valley of the Black Pig”…

‘The dews drop slowly and dreams gather;’ —W.B. Yeats

Of Flying Pigs and Truffles

Those pigs! They are flying…fleeing in droves,
exposed by the truffles they guzzled with glee,
their gluttonous bingeing, now everyone knows.
Soon they will pay for their vile thievery.
Those truffles! So rare…such delicacies.
They should be savored by pallets discerning,
their place on the plate given prominency,
respected and honored in delicate servings.
It’s been quite the scandal, this wild exposé.
The talk of the barnyard, in locker room speak.
Oh, those pig’s days are numbered, not sorry to say,
and to truffles uprising, the victory tastes sweet.

~kat

Inspired by the news of the day, the slow dripping drop of the dews and the title of the Yeats poem, for Jane Dougherty’s ‘A Month with Yeats’ – Day Eighteen Poetry Challenge.