Tag Archives: Challenge

March 16, 2017

Fading 

By Kat Myrman


It was a fading memory. Strobing fluorescent lights, the rat-a-tat-tat of a sticking stretcher wheel, the hot sting of a needle piercing her skin, the cool rush of fluids pulsing through her veins, unfamiliar agitated voices and strange words; pleural cavity, intubate, pulse ox, edematous, code blue, call it.

“9:24 pm”, was the last thing she heard before a flash of light and a whoosh sent her drifting feather light above where her body lay. Through walls, upward, upward until she floated just above the clouds, dots of artificial light twinkling like stars from the sleepy city below.

She drifted there in the in-between for hours, maybe days, it’s hard to know. The inconsolable wails of loved ones breaking through the veil like whispers held her captive. She extended her hands toward them as if she could touch the sound waves, and so, touch them one last time.

But the light was calling to her. She felt its warmth on her back and turned her head slightly away from the fading gray for just a second. And then she was gone. Just like that, a fading memory.

~kat – 15 March 2017

For Jane Dougherty’s Sunday Strange Challenge based on this mysterious painting. 

18 Comments   |  tags: , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, Flash Fiction, Under 300 Words

March 14, 2017

Twist & Shout -Haiku 

By Kat Myrman

Photo from Pixabay.com


when someone’s shouting
it’s impossible to hear
how twisted is that?

those who twist the truth
need to bellow their tall tales
to convince themselves

~kat – 14 March 2017

For Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge based on the prompt words, “Twist” and “Shout”.

8 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, Digital Art & Photos, Haiku, Poetry

March 14, 2017

Light – A Haiku

By Kat Myrman

earthen crust trembles
dormant seeds burst, perishing
ever chasing the light

~kat – 14 March 2017

For Haiku Horizons’ Challenge, prompt word, “Light”.

8 Comments   |  tags: , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, Digital Art & Photos, Haiku, Poetry

March 14, 2017

Twittering Tales #21 – 14 March 2017

By Kat Myrman

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If you accept the challenge, 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. Have Fun!

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Twittering Tales #20 – The Round Up

You all wrote some fantastic tales for last week’s photo prompt. Here’s the line up! This week we had break ups and break downs, alien invasions, loss, desperation, intrigue, mystery, art…oh the drama! Thanks everyone for having such a good time with this one. Hope to see you next week! 🙂

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Gayl at Gayl Wright-Words, Photos and Art wrote:

Trust Betrayed
Tired of his shallow, twisted excuses, she became angry.
Hurling the goblet to the floor she screamed,
“Go! I never want to see you again!”
(139 characters)

Broken but Determined
Like this broken glass
A marriage had been shattered
He chose another

Not to be kept down
She worked hard for their children
Filling in the gaps
(139 characters)

Michael at Morpethroad wrote:

I carried it around the world, through every customs place imaginable, and as fate would have it, I dropped it out of the box at home. Ugh!
(139 Characters)

Kathryn at Another Foodie Blogger wrote:

She held her wrist inches above the glass. “God, please someone help me!” she pleaded. The door opened slowly, as tears streamed down. “Mom?”
(141 Characters)

Lorraine at 25 Words, More or Less wrote:

She is like a broken wine glass; the stem remains, but her mind, the bowl, is gone.
(84 characters)

Jane at Jane Dougherty Writes wrote:

The reception committee paused, champagne untasted, as the aliens munched through their coupes before starting on the silver cake stands.
(137 Characters)

Di at Pensitivity101 wrote:

‘Darling, you know I can’t attend these dos without a glass in my hand!’
‘Does it have to be full? Hang on, I have the perfect solution.’
(136 characters)

Francine at Woman Walking Max wrote:

Romantic dinner, I’m the only one for you? Liar. Your turn to hurt now. Cheers
(79 Characters)

Sudha at SriSudhaK wrote:

Wow geeta! You sketched it with perfection. I must say,”Amazing 3d art dear..!” And here goes my caption “A bit of optimism -Last hope”
(135 Characters)

Reena at ReInventuions wrote:

Jim was the container to hold her joy in life. He disappeared. The base was intact. She just had to drill a hole, for happiness to re-enter.
(140 Characters)

Irena at Books and Hot Tea wrote:

“It’s done. You broke it,” she wept. 

The tone of her voice hit him like a punch. It sounded like she wasn’t talking about the glass anymore.
(140 characters)

Peter at Peter’s Ponderings wrote:

The magic flute was no more.
It had refilled itself with champagne for the last time.
Paula had savoured, slurped, then sloshed.
Both smashed!
(140 characters)

Kirst at Kirst Writes wrote:

You’re late. Again.
I’m here now. Happy anniversary.
She could smell cheap perfume. As he leaned towards her, she hurled the champagne flute.
(139 characters)

John at Broadsides wrote:

There are no fingerprints. It is washed. There are slivers still in the flesh of his throat, He cannot, they cannot, say who struck the blow.
(141 Characters)

and I started everyone off with this…

“I will never forgive you!” she cried. “It was my grandma’s.”
“I’m so sorry,” he lamented. He knew she wasn’t crying about a broken glass.
(138 Characters)

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Twittering Tales #21 – 14 March 2016

First off, WHAT IS THIS? Haha! Just kidding. I love antiques. But I must admit, I remember plunking on a modern version of one of these. And then I remember getting really excited when they became electrified. Of course many were over the moon over word processing machines…not quite a computer…where you typed on a keyboard and the words showed on a tiny screen instead of paper. No more carbon paper to make copies or chalky correction tape, no more messy typewriter ribbons. It was fabulous. My, my how far we have come. Anyhow, I like this photo because there is a bit of text on the paper in the typewriter. Your challenge…if you like…write a tale that continues the line typed on the paper. Or just let yourself go like I did and write what first pops into your head. Words, words, words swirling around in our heads…whatever shall we do with them! Have Fun! 🙂

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Photo from Pixabay.com

The former owner of the old house was a writer. Ten years after his death he finished his novel. The author’s name? Ghostwriter, of course!

~kat
(139 Characters)

 

 

93 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, Essays, Flash Fiction, Random Thoughts and Musings, Twitter Tales

March 8, 2017

When Women Ruled the Land

By Kat Myrman

A fitting microfiction tale for Jane Dougherty’s Sunday Strange Microfiction Photo Prompt on this International Women’s Day. Peace all! 🙂

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Painting by Hans Thoma

Once upon a time, when women ruled the land, the Earth Goddess appeared on Elysium Mount playing her harp to call forth Spring. The people, dressed in white, gathered in vernal fields to celebrate the emergence of new life. It was said that one could hear the sound of Earth Goddess’s harp for miles, from sea to sea. It was a time of peace, hope and prosperity.

But Old Man Winter was not fond of Earth Goddess’s gaiety or her authority. He particularly disdained her warmth and light and greenness.

“Too much green!” he bellowed, as he spewed cold nips of icy breath across the plains to dissuade the buds from blooming.

“Too much light! he bemoaned, as he sent the darkest cloak of blackness to loom over the land in the wee, late hours of night to suppress the flickering sparks of dawn.

“She is much too hot!” he growled from the center of his cold, cold heart. “The world does not need new. Things are fine just the way they are!” Old Man Winter whined every year as he retreated to the earth’s poles to wait for Spring and Summer to Fall.

Of course it was completely out of place for him to demand that the seasons, the earth and his way of bitter existence upon it, be only as he wished it to be. The seasons are as sure as the rising of the sun and the setting of the moon.

While in exile, Old Man Winter devised a plan to usurp the Earth Goddess’s rule. As winter was fading on the cusp of spring the following year, Old Man Winter sent two messengers, Power and Greed, to visit Earth Goddess as she played her harp on Elysium Mount. An enchanted flute-playing Lizard joined them. Lizards, as you know, are powerful totems of regeneration, renewal and rebirth, but they can be quite lethal, breathing fire and destruction, if allowed to sprout wings.

“Hello Fair Earth Goddess,” Power began, “we think the Spring Festival would be much more festive if you would consider adding the talents of our friend Lizard to your sinfonietta. He is a fine flautist from the rocky shoal along the Crystal Sea.”

“Imagine the beautiful music you could create together!” added Greed, “after all, two is better than one, don’t you agree?”

Knowing the legend and lore of the Lizard and seeing that he did not bear even the slightest bud of wings upon his back, Earth Goddess agreed to let Lizard play his pipe to her harp.

So enchanting and mesmerizing was the duo that the people stopped dancing to listen. It was then, that the Lizard sprouted wings, launching into a spree of terror from the sky, as had been the plan. The people scattered in fear to every corner of the earth leaving Earth Mother alone amidst the fading blooms of Spring; fading because she had stopped playing her harp when she realized she had been played. Finally, a cold wind whipped through her, ejecting her from the mount. She realized the culprit of the plot, but it was too late. Old Man Winter had won.

He still allows Spring to pass through each year, but he is clearly in control reminding her of this fact by sending unseasonal gusts of icy air. The Piper, (or Lizard as he was once known) still plays his pipe, its melody traveling on the wind while the people shudder, still scattered and fearful of shadows, bumps in the night and fire from the sky.

As history will attest, it was also the beginning of the time when men, fearful of women’s strong intuition and powerful ability to create and nurture, began to use fear to their own advantage, as a way control the people.

Though thousands of years have passed since the coup, I have heard that on rainy spring days, if one listens closely, the sound of the Earth Goddess’s harp can still be heard between rain droplets. She is close by, waiting for the day when peace, hope and prosperity are released from their chains and she is restored to her place atop Elysium Mount. On that day she will play and play, and the people will dance once again.

~kat – 8 March 2017

19 Comments   |  tags: , , | posted in microfiction