I love flash fiction challenges so I serve up some new ones here every Tuesday, and since every one likes choices I’m providing you with two weekly writing prompts. You can participate in either one, or double your pleasure by trying your hand at both.
The Standard Prompt will always consist of a two-word prompt to be used as inspiration. The Non-Standard Prompt will change from week to week. Sometimes it will be a visual prompt, sometimes a first sentence or phrase, sometimes a scenario, etc. The limit for most Two for Tuesday prompts is 200 words unless otherwise specified. Use the little blue link thing below to submit your link or leave an entry in the comments section.
Don’t forget to check out the other entries.
Here is this week’s two-fer:
You have lots of creative leeway. The limit is 200 words. The words can be used:
- simply as a point of inspiration and do not have to be used directly
- they can be included exactly as provided
- or each word can be used independently of each other (for example if Death Row was the prompt instead of crafting a story about an inmate on the way to the gallows, you might write something like: Despite feeling like death from an excess of cheap vodka consumed the night before, Evelyn moved on to planting her next row of spinach).
This week I am asking you to create a story comprised entirely of dialogue. You will have to do a little planning about how to make it clear who is speaking because I don’t even want you using any dialogue tags (you know those “Harold said brightly” or “replied Janet with a scowl” tid bits that help keep things sorted). You need to convey emotion and information strictly through the words spoken. Keep the conversation to two people as it will be easier keep the speakers straight (and is in keeping with the theme of Two for Tuesday). Per usual with the Non-standard prompt there is no word limit but there is a minimum of 200 words.
Here’s what I came up with for the Standard Prompt:
The object was a simple, twisted metal rod, crudely crafted and unassuming until Darrian picked it up. Immediately a chasm of undeterminable depth tore open at his feet and a violent, twisting column of howling, spiraling winds rose from the slash in the ground clawing at everything around him, yet he easily kept his footing and felt at peace on the lip of such turmoil. An energy vibrated from the wand up his arm and when he closed his eyes he could see all past, present and future, he could hear the song of the earth, he could comprehend all thoughts and language; everything simultaneously.
Chase, his twin brother, charged with rage at Darrian who with the newly given power of raw, true vision saw his womb-mate for the first time stripped of his veil of deceit: a snarling monster, bent, lopping, his eyes burning with desire, twitching fingers reaching with ill intent. Darrian held out the wand—his brother leapt for it—but the holder gave the rod a flick, like a stick to a dog, allowing a tentacle of wind to snake around scepter and sibling pulling both into the yawning canyon before it suddenly snapped shut.