Thursday, February 28, 2013

Five Sentence Fiction Challenge - Empty



This week's writing challenge from Five Sentence Fiction ( Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt "empty."

Hey, I'm early this week!

Being a rider of the DC Metro, I decided to have a little fun with this one.



Empty




He had jumped into the subway car just as the doors closed, the sound of gunshots ringing out behind, the clang of ricochets off the metal doors echoing in his ears. Jack didn't know how he'd managed to dodge the bullets, but that was just part of the daily routine when you deal in heroin and white slavery – not everyone does business with a handshake in those circles. As the train pulled away from the station, he noticed a lot of blood on the seats and thought another rider had been hit. Looking around, he saw the only other passenger on the train was an old man with a wry smile wearing a Halloween costume. His thoughts on the curious situation were interrupted, however, when the operator announced, "Welcome aboard the express, Jack, with your next stop - Hell..."


© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

FSF Challenge - Abandoned



This week's writing challenge from Five Sentence Fiction ( Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt "abandoned."

I've been a little busy lately, so I'm late in gettng this posted. The Five Sentence Fiction challenge seems to be getting more popular, too. Lots of new names and it looks like I'll be number 41 on the list. Now if I can just find to time to read everyone else's posts...




Abandoned





It wasn't supposed to be like this – a boyfriend leaving without a word, parents that wanted nothing to do with her, and another helpless life stirring within, just beginning to show. Her grandmother, who lived upstate and the only one who had ever seemed to care, might be her last chance for a safe place to stay until she could figure things out. She heard there was a train station on the other side of Johnsonville, and had walked most of the morning to get there, praying she had enough money left to buy a ticket. But when she reached the depot and saw it hadn't been used for years, Cindy May Wilkes just kept going, crying as she stumbled along the rusted and overgrown tracks, her arms wrapped around her stomach, past the crossing at East Street, by the boarded-up factory, and halfway across the old bridge over the Watauga River.



Image above scaled down from original image located at: http://s1342.beta.photobucket.com/user/TeamWerling/media/Abandoned_zpsf587308f.jpg.html


© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Scarlett River Press Website Update



It appears that the Scarlett River Press website is back on-line as promised. There doesn't seem to be anything new on it yet except that all of the submissions are marked "closed." So, I have that one little poem submitted to them - perhaps it still has a chance for publication!





© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Monday, February 18, 2013

Five Sentence Fiction Challenge - Cherish



This week's writing challenge from Five Sentence Fiction ( Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt "cherish."

Once again, I was having a little trouble coming up with something. Maybe it was because I was rather busy this last week or just had a bit of writer's block, but either way, nothing was being written. As it turns out, however, I was rescued by another blog. I was looking over some of the other posts, and when I saw Lillie's, thought it might be nice to write it from the other side...

Directions:
  1. Read Lillie McFerrin's post
  2. Read my post (you're already there, so you don't have to do anything...).




Cherish


 photo 36972_408469919532_28590109532_4195431_2933322_n_large_zps6bc41623.jpg


He was quite surprised when Emma said she'd go to dinner with him as she'd never seemed all that interested before. When she opened the door, he couldn't even get out a word, standing there like a nervous kid in front of his first girlfriend, offering a bunch of flowers he'd bought on a whim from a roadside stand. Still, she accepted them graciously, even smiling slightly, and before she could respond he began babbling, nearly stuttering, telling her she was beautiful and how glad he was that she had agreed to go out with him. And all he could do throughout the entire evening was tell those stupid jokes because everything sensible disappeared from his mind any time their eyes met. Even after she said goodnight and closed the door, he knew the first image of her holding that bouquet would remain with him forever.


© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Five Sentence Fiction Challenge - Purple



This week's writing challenge from Five Sentence Fiction ( Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt "purple."

I thought I'd try something different this time, channeling Mickey Spillane a bit.






Matching Accessories


"Fashion Luxury Portrait Of Young Girl Teenager In Purple Style D" by David Castillo Dominici / www.freedigitalphotos.net



There wasn't much light inside that dingy backstreet bar, but there was no mistaking who it was when she walked in wearing that same little dress, the one that looked like it was painted on, the one she always wore when she wanted something, and although I didn't know what it was, any chance of refusing disappeared the second I saw her body shrink-wrapped in that silky thing. The way she had of looking skanky and classy all at the same time was more than most men could handle, including me. It had been over a year since she'd left, but my gut was telling me it might as well have been yesterday. Still, she was the one who asked to meet, and I was a little surprised when she just stood there biting her lip as I asked, "How's it going?" I must have been more distracted than I thought because it wasn't until she moved closer that I noticed the dress was nearly the same shade of purple as the shiner around her left eye.



Image courtesy of David Castillo Dominici / FreeDigitalPhotos.net


© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Monday, February 4, 2013

I'm So Proud!



I found this on-line writing analyzer that is supposed to tell you which famous author your writing style emulates. I put in the story I'd written for the Five Sentence Fiction Challenge using the prompt "ringing" and it responded with this:



I write like
H. P. Lovecraft
I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!


Without a doubt, a most remarkably accurate tool!


© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Five Sentence Fiction Challenge - Delicate



This week's writing challenge from Five Sentence Fiction ( Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt "delicate."

I was having quite a difficult time with this prompt - absolutely nothing came to mind. Then I remembered a poem I had written some years back that I believed to contain the word "delicate." I searched through my archive and found it, checking the verse to see if my memory was correct. The poem originally came about after a discussion with a young lady about forgetting birthdays and such. I had to make a few small changes to accommodate the five-sentence rule, but it is largely unchanged.

This is only my second poem for this blog, the first being a short one in my very first post and my first for the Five Sentence Fiction challenges. Sadly, it's the sort of thing that might completely destroy the reputation I was attempting to build as an evil-minded writer of horror.





When She Awakes



She will be angry when she awakes
For I have forgotten again
Some time or place of importance.

I cannot recall when we first met,
Whether day or night
Or of what season
I do not know,
But I remember the look in her eyes.

I cannot name the place where I first took her hand,
For with that one act 
My world became the delicate fingers
Within my nervous grasp,
But I remember the warmth of her touch.

I cannot say how we first kissed,
Having dreamed that kiss a thousand times
Before our lips ever met
And know not which are real,
But I remember the softness of her face.

She will be angry when she awakes
For I will only be able to smile
And she will wonder why.

                                          K. R. Smith




© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved