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. When you write your tale, be sure to let me know in the comments with a link to your tale. If you would prefer to post your tale in the comments (some people have very specific blog themes but still want to participate), I am happy to post a link to your site when I post your tale in the Round Up.
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 have 280 characters (spaces and punctuation included), to tell your tale…and a week to do it. I can’t wait to see what you create this week.
Twittering Tales #125 – The Roundup
Starting us off…
The Unmade Bed
The officer scratched his head, “I’m sorry ma’am, what’s the problem? This is your son’s room? Is he missing?”
“He’s at school.”
“Um, OK. How old?”
“He’s 15. He’s always been such a neat boy. Then this! Something’s terribly wrong. Drugs maybe?”
“I’m afraid he’s a teenager ma’am.”
By Reena at ReInventions:
Pillow fights are now a thing of the past, soft and all forgotten, forgiven in the morning.
Words thrown around – carelessly or with a deliberate intention to pierce the heart, do hurt a lot more. But we are grown up now, wiser and know all about inheritance and wealth management.
By MsJadeli at Tao Talk:
The hotel room door clicked shut. Slowly, painstakingly, the pillows, sheets, and comforter inched their ways back up onto the bed. Exhausted they huddled together. Big pillow said, “Usually the humans hug and snuggle us. These ones threw us off and f*cked all night long!”
By The Dark Netizen:
My bed’s in a mess, again.
No surprise there. I tossed and turned a lot last night. These damned nightmares often keep haunting me. I make a mess of the bed when I get such dreams. Sometimes, I make even more of a mess, like last night.
Nights when the nightmares come alive…
By Deepa at Sync With Deep:
Of Responsibilities and Compromises
this bed has
day time responsibilities
night time compromises…
By Rollercoaster Ride on Life, a very nice story inspired by the prompt: Pillows.
By Kate at Everywhere and Nowhere:
fluffy clouds called me to dreamland
where I often wander for hours
always surrounded but always alone
the adventure is always different
one thing remains a constant
my adventures are never completed
By Kristian at Tales from the Mind of Kristian:
A Dirty Bed
The cleaner thought “What kind of person would act so slovenly to leave their bed this way?” She found a used needle and other unsavoury items but she left the room looking tidy.
It wasn’t her fault. How was she to know it was the exhibit the gallery had paid a cool Million for?
By Fandango at This, That, and the Other:
“Why do you sleep with so many pillows?” his girlfriend asked. “You have only one head.”
“I need two behind my head,” he said. “Otherwise I’ll get dizzy. I need one in the small of my back. Otherwise I’ll get a backache. And one beneath my knees. Otherwise my feet will swell up.”
By Di at Pensitivity101:
Mark approached the bed and tentatively reached out to pull the bunched sheet back.
Two soulful brown eyes looked up at him from the billowy whiteness, well, all except the yellowing stain the puppy was sitting in.
By Teresa at The Haunted Wordsmith:
Lustful encounter. Child’s wrestling match. Slumber party pillow fight. It had seen it all – all the joys and happiness in the Isley family. Ever the loyal provider. It comforted them as flashes of light lit the room and they took their last breath.
By Willow at WillowDot21:
Art Dealer:”What do you mean it’s art. Do you think I came down on the last train. The colour is all wrong too white the lines too crisp. Just too clean it’s been done before. Dirtier unsanitary even where are the dirty clothes? Have you anything original”
Artist: “A cow or a pig”
By Ron at Read4Fun:
The Remains of the Night
The war had been hours in preparation. Both sides had enough forces and weapons. Where would the battle take place? Annie Green’s war was a rout. The Battle of Mary Hastings was a draw. Now, it’s all out victory or friendships would suffer. It’s difficult to organize sleepovers.
By Regina at Help from Heaven:
The Memory Maker
She looked at the bed, aware that with company about to start arriving, she should make it up. But, his outline and his smell are still there. In her grief, she wasn’t ready to erase him. He had lovingly called their bed the Memory-Maker. Oh, what a sweet life they had shared!
By John from The Magic Shop:
She thoughtlessly made these beds, one after another. It was for her kids, that’s all that mattered. A second job at this hotel meant a better future for them. She would work through the arthritis in her knees hoping her family may someday be able to afford a room like this.
By Michael at Morpethroad:
He returned to bed to find her gone.
The dishevelled nature of the bedding said so much about the night’s fitful sleep.
It wasn’t one of their wonderfully sexually driven nights,
The heat put an end to that inclination.
They tossed and turned.
He found her curled up in the spare room.
By Maranda at Maranda Russell:
Olivia sat on the edge of her daughter’s unmade bed. She ran her fingers over the ridges and bulges of the white blankets. She leaned down to sniff the fluffy pillow at the head of the bed, then laid her head down on it heavily.
She’s really gone. The pain hit hard and fast.
By Anita at For the Love Of:
Cat Dr. Visit
“You already got out the carrier.”
“You don’t get it out until right before you get ready to leave.”
“It’s under control.”
“I bet not. Do you even have a clue where he is?”
She points toward the bed and its rounded shape under the sheets.
“It’s all under control.”
By Peter at Peter’s Pondering:
Come in Carruthers, Can you hear me? Over.
I hear you loud and clear! Over.
Thank god, I thought we’d lost you. Can you confirm you are still under cover? Over.
Yes. Rest assured, I’m still on the case, and in the case. Over.
Well done. Let’s catch this sleeper agent napping. Out!
By CS at Don’t Forget the Half:
“Mom, have you seen my uniform?”
His room showed all the signs of a teenager derelict in his chores – messy bed, spilled sunblock, and meatloaf leftover from dinner.
Mom walked in, almost tripping over his charger. “I’m fascinated you can even find your thoughts in here.”
By Anurag at Jagahdilmein:
Home is Where the Heart is!
I struggled to hold back my tears as I looked at the disheveled pillows. They reminded me of Grandma, gone away now, forever.
I choked up as I remembered her gentle smile and kind eyes.
If only she’d agreed to leave the pillows when the pest control human had been called.
By Ennle at Abandoned Amenities:
Sweet piercing passion
Escape from ennui
Tossed pillows, wrinkled sheets waft
Raw perfume, afternoon romance
Did I say I love you?
Yes…you relish the moment your
Name becomes dawn-out keening
On my lips
We aged together
Not realizing we’re “old”…like
Teenagers soon craving “next time”.
By Jo at A Creative PTSD Gal:
‘You lay down with dogs, you’ll wake with fleas,’ Sam’s mom warned. A friendship, once innocent quickly had a bad influence on Sam.
Now, just released on bail he crawled into bed.
‘OW!’ Sam pulled back the covers to find his bed swarming with fleas.
‘MOM!’ he yelled.
‘I told you!’
Character Count: 279
By Sadje at Keep it Alive:
Another of those nights, she wasn’t sure that she could take more of them. The memories and the guilt would strike at her mind just when she is about to drop off to sleep. Why? She hadn’t meant to it happen. It was an accident. But the subconscious would keep on reminding her.
Character Count; 278
By Tina at Tina Stewart Brakebill:
It was so white. How could that be? Her eyes searched the bed for telltale signs beyond the humps and wrinkles. But she could find nothing. The more she stared, the hazier it all became. Whitewashing her memory till she was convinced. It was just a dream. Not a terrible mistake.
By Deb at Twenty Four:
It’s the first day of the Olympic Games Joan, do you think this first event is going to prove as exciting as we anticipate?
Well Mike, expectations are high but I’m sure we won’t be disappointed.
I agree Joan, The Princess and the Pea, it’s going to be an enthralling competition.
By John at Broadsides:
There are hard scenes of crime, with violent blood splatters, DNA, semen, maybe a knife or a gun or a hammer, perhaps all three. And there are soft scenes of crime where the only sign of death was a muffled grunt beneath a downy pillow.
By Hayley at The Story Files:
Sundays was made for spending in bed undisturbed watching classic TV shows, reading huge books and relaxing away.
Twittering Tales #126 – This Is It – 5 March 2019
“There’s your sign Donna.”
“No it’s not, Jon. I meant stars aligning. You know, magic.”
“Looks like a sign to me. Go on, have a look.”
Donna stepped inside. The scent of roses filled the candlelit room. She turned to find Jon on one knee.
“Well? Whadya think?”
“Best sign ever.”