There are times when dealing with those pesky humans that we find their expectations are so contradictory to our own, we wonder whether we live on the same planet. My theory has always been that reality is entirely subjective and each of us lives in our own little universe.
The reason I have good ol' Randy Travis serenading you is because I am planning an anthology based on songs. I've already If I detect some interest, I will open the anthology to my loyal writers and readers first before opening the anthology to the general public. Contact me if this is something you'd be interested in. Also let me know if you'd be willing to participate in a #MotivationMonday Anthology
Now, on to the contest!
Lisa McCourt Hollar resides in Ohio with her husband and children. You can read her bolg, Jezri's Nightmares, at http://www.lisamccourthollar.com. Her short stories and collections are available on Amazon, B&N, Kobo and Smashwords. She is currently working on her first novel.
- The story must start from the prompt. This means the prompt must be the
first words in the story.
- No more than 500 words (not including the prompt). No less than 100 words.
- Any genre (in fact an unexpected genre will get you more points.)
- Entries must be submitted by Tuesday Noon EST
- The winner of each week's competition will be invited to judge the following week and post the winner's badge similar to the one on the right.
- Have fun!
By Wakefield Mahon
How did you expect her to react? It doesn’t matter who started the fight. It always starts over something trivial. You know she’s not the rational one, but instead of defusing the situation, you have to stoke the flames.
I WAS the one who through the cat at her when she wouldn’t stop screaming. It wasn’t until after she threw the cat at the wall and I screamed at her for abusing the cat that I realized just how irrational I was being. I finally realized I should apologize before things got even more out of hand.
Unfortunately, she disappeared. I spun around at the sound of metal against metal. She carried two swords in the room and tossed one to, or rather at me.
“Let’s settle this once and for all!” She spat more than spoke.
I lifted my sword and did the only rational thing that came to mind. I ran the sword through my own belly.
159 ineligible words from a dream I had two nights ago.
(Feel free to psychoanalyze or to pontificate on whether dreams should be made into stories)