Here’s a schedule for you so you know what to expect:
January 28 Special Collection Challenge to Honor the work of Sue Vincent
February 1-19: Sue Vincent Classic Rodeo Contest and Parade of Reblogs (announced Monday, February 1 at CarrotRanch.com/blog)
February 3 No Collection
February 4 Special Host: D. Avery
February 10 Special Host Collection
February 11 Sue Vincent Reblog Parade (no challenge)
February 17 Special Sue V Collection posted
February 18 Regular Flash Fiction Challenges return
February 19 Contest ends
March 22 Winner and Runners Up Announced
January 28, 2021, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about life as a river of consciousness. Think about the possibilities of the prompt. Go where the prompt leads!
Respond by February 11, 2021.
This is my special flash fiction piece for Sue Vincent.
Life As A River of Consciousness
Do What You Love
What makes us human extends beyond the care we give our young. Perhaps it is our creativity which marks us as distinctive from other species.
Life is akin to a river of consciousness, we may drift along, or choose who we truly desire to be. Whatever we decide, we must live life to the full, expressing ourselves in music, words, performance, or art. Troubling obstacles will come and go, pebbles of uncertainty, meandering moments, thunderstorms and floods of tears, unsure and uncertain times. To accomplish our hearts’ desires we must stay focused, determined and resolute on life’s turbulent river.
Thank you to the lovely Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch for all she does for the literary community. <3
The flash fiction prompt this week made me think of my mother-in-law Mary who is holding on to being fiercely independent as long as she possibly can. She is now the ripe old age of ninety four! She always tidies everything up before the carer sets foot in the house and her favourite phrase is: That’s that job done!
Tea and Biscuits With The Carer
“That’s the blueberries washed!” she said with a smile.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Put the kettle on,” she said.
“Don’t you want to leave anything for the carer to do?”
She didn’t answer, instead she said, “Get the pavlova and cream. Mini ones in the cupboard over there.”
I opened the tin and arranged them on a large plate.
I’ve always enjoyed Westerns!! The prompt this week is to write a story about what happens on the dusty trail and Respond by October 6, 2020.
Excitement is building at Carrot Ranch for TUFF – TUFF stands for The Ultimate Flash Fiction which is every Monday — October 5, 12, 19, and 26.
So here is my Oct 1st Flash Fiction take about how love must have been short and sweet in times of life and death.
The Darnedest Cowboy
The darnedest cowboy walked towards me. His cowboy boots churned up the dusty road. My heartbeat so loudly I swore it was going to giddy up, catch a ride on a wild horse and land on his Western shirt. His eyes twinkled as he dawdled a few feet away. He kicked a stone, spat some cheeky grits into the ground and walked right past, lassoing my heart with his.
I stayed still until I heard the deafening gunshot. Damn. Wild West gals sure don’t remember no dead cowboy long.
My flash is based on a true story. I visited my mother-in-law in Edinburgh, Scotland. She hadn’t been too well but made a miraculous recovery. At ninety-four she is an incredible woman! This tree and our conversation inspired me to write this piece of flash.
It was kind of eerie at the time… knowing what I know now. The wind was blowing lightly but I added a gust of ghostly wind to the flash fiction piece!
The Tree of Life I encouraged my mother-in-law to venture out for a walk. She hadn’t been out since a fall laid her low before lockdown. We sat by the wise old tree. I had no idea that just a few days ago this area had been the site of a funeral gathering. The family decorated the branches with colourful ribbons, dream catchers, pretty baubles and teddy bears. As we talked, a tremendous gust of wind blew the ribbons, twirling them in a whirl of colour as the baubles and teddies danced.
I heard leaves rustling; it was his last goodbye.
I didn’t know the man who died, or what he died of. His funeral happened at a time when people couldn’t gather in the usual way. So, touching and sad. His friends and family came together to say their last goodbye amongst nature, by that tree, in the area in which he had lived. Passersby who may, or may not have known him saw the reminder of the vibrancy of his life in the colour of the adorned tree.
I picked some purple flowers for my mother-in-law which she carries in the photo. Purple is her favourite colour. She always mentions our walk each time I speak to her. Somehow, that walk to the tree have given her confidence back. I believe she has now walked to the shop again. I’m glad I encouraged her to walk with me even though I was so worried that she might fall. Sometimes you have to be brave to make a special memory.
“Yep. Folks, try defining yer blog’s purpose in 99 words; focus that statement even more in 59 words; then hook us with 9 words. Ya might even post these versions at yer own site. Tell us who ya are or what yer about here in the comments, 9 words, no more no less.”
Six years ago my life changed. I became a blogger – a strange creature, even if I say so myself! Initially, I named my blog home: Kyrosmagica – a magical shore of books, writing, photography and inspiration. Kyros after the Greek word crystal and magica to represent magic.
When interviewing authors I sometimes adopt a new persona, calling myself MJ.
I feature authors, review books, take part in poetry, flash fiction and photography challenges, nothing is off-limits. Sometimes I become sensible Marje when necessity calls.
Kyrosmagica has evolved; It is now my author website with lashes of crystal magic!
Six years ago I became a blogger. My blog home Kyrosmagica – a magical shore of books, writing, photography and inspiration. Sometimes I am known as MJ, sometimes as the author Marje, or even M J Mallon. I write reviews, interview folk, take part in poetry, flash fiction and photography challenges. Nothing is off limits, blogging is such fun.
Kyrosmagica blog is me! Books, writing, photography and magic.
I stood by the platform waiting for my train, my mask tight against my face. A man jeered at me, his lips twisted in a cruel grimace. I moved back.
“I have something for you,” he smiled as he spat. I felt his wet spittle on my exposed skin. I screamed, frantically searching for a tissue to erase death from my face.
Onlookers stared, their hearts bound by fear as their masks sagged. He wiped his mouth, licking his cruel lips. Tears streamed from my eyes. I vowed to fight this virus; killers mustn’t win.
The above is my entry for Charli Mill’s flash fiction challenge – May 14, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that answers the question, “What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you are in absolute danger?” Go where the prompt leads!
My submission for Charlie Mill’s flash fiction challenge:
The Crumb’s Obituary
For one day I crave silence.
Your words crush my soul making me weep. Your tongue is bitter, cruel and relentless, it pokes fun at my crawling. I must do as you please, surrendering to your every whim.
‘Look at this,’ you say, scowling.
I move towards it, this lonely crumb which sits on the kitchen surface begging for forgiveness.
‘Oops,’ I respond, trembling.
‘Dear God. You’re multiplying ant – look at the state of this place.’
I step back waiting for him to strike.
Instead, his thumb bears down on the tiny crumb and crushes it to death.
To enter or find out more about the challenges follow the link:
June 7, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about man glisten. It was a fun term coined by two men with glitter in their beards. What more could it embrace? Look to the unexpected and embrace a playful approach. Go where the prompt leads. – https://carrotranch.com/2018/06/08/june-7-flash-fiction-challenge/
Respond by June 12, 2018.
It’s a bit early for a Christmas story but this is what occurred to me so I went with the flow!
Man Glisten – Progress!
‘What’s that?’ asked the little girl in the department store.
‘It’s the new Father Christmas. He’s called man glisten, because he listens to all the little girls and boys while he glistens.’
‘But I liked the old Father Christmas with the long white beard, fat tummy and the red suit,’ said his daughter with a tear in her eyes.
‘It’s progress, honey. Old Father Christmas wasn’t bringing money into the department store anymore.’
‘Do you want to meet him?’
‘Look! His long beard, psychedelic suit and his reindeer glisten.’