Saturday, June 29, 2013

FSF Challenge - View



Lillie McFerrin Writes
This week's writing challenge from
Five Sentence Fiction
Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt:

 View



I cheated on this one. It's semi-autobiographical.

Oh, and I haven't used the word Dieselpunk lately, so I'll throw that in for good measure. It has nothing to do with this post...




Inspiration from Perspiration


Yeah, that's me on Old Rag Mountain - May 2004
Yeah, that's me on Old Rag Mountain - May 2004

"Now that you've made it to the top, what do you think?" Will asked.
"Do they call it Old Rag because that's what you feel like after climbing over all those rocks?"
"Damn, Ralph, all you've done is complain the whole way up here."
"Well, I'm sweaty, thirsty, and shaking from exhaustion, so just take your stupid picture so I can set down and rest."
As Ralph posed for the camera, he forgot about the climb, the heat, even his bruised knees as he gazed across the rolling hills and patchwork farmlands that stretched out below him, the Earth blending into an azure sky at a distant horizon while the clouds passed almost within his reach—a perspective both humbling in scope and surprising with its recuperative powers.



You can read more about Old Rag mountain here: Old Rag Mountain


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

Thursday, June 20, 2013

FSF Challenge - Blades



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

Blades



Sometimes kids find other things more interesting than their toys...





Spinning Blades




Image "Lawn Mower And Green Grass" courtesy of foto76 at www.freedigitalphotos.net



It couldn't have been more than a minute since she'd gone into the kitchen to answer the phone, but Alex was nowhere in sight. The swings were motionless, the soccer ball still, his tricycle in the same spot on the patio it had been before, and not a whisper of his voice disturbed the silence. "He's not even four years old," echoed through her mind as she ran to the garage, the covered porch in front of the house, and then to the street to find neither Alex nor any sign her child still existed in this world. Turning to look across the yard, she spied his unmoving legs just visible from behind the trunk of an old maple where the lawnmower was sheltered, and forced herself to walk toward them, her eyes not wanting to see but unable to close. There, lying beneath the huge tree, Alex quietly waited as each breeze released a flurry of ripened seeds, smiling as their curved blades took flight, slowly spinning the primeval helicopters to a peaceful landing within his outstretched hand.



An additional links of interest: 

   "Maple Seed" Helicopters

   Image "Lawn Mower And Green Grass" courtesy of foto76 / FreeDigitalPhotos.net



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

Saturday, June 15, 2013

FSF Challenge - Home



Lillie McFerrin Writes
This week's writing challenge from
Five Sentence Fiction
Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt:

 Home





Traces




Image "Worker Of Road Construction Drilling Cement Ground" courtesy of khunaspix at www.freedigitalphotos.net



"You have that old sidewalk busted out yet?"

"No, I have to get the masonry saw," he replied to his supervisor who seemed confused that the jackhammer he was using wouldn't suffice.

As he was about to sink his bit into the concrete, Steve had found the initials "M. E. D." and two small hand-prints impressed in the last slab leading from the dilapidated house.  He wondered about them as the owner, an old woman who recently passed away, had lived alone all her life. Then, barely visible on the rusted mailbox, he noticed a name, Mary E. Delaney, and these last traces of her life, for so long a part of of her home, were about to be destroyed; he was going to cut them out and give them a new one.



Image "Worker Of Road Construction Drilling Cement Ground" courtesy of khunaspix / FreeDigitalPhotos.net


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

Monday, June 10, 2013

Let's Go Camping!



To be honest, I'm going to let you go by yourself...

Since it's almost time for Camp NaNoWriMo to start, I thought I'd post this notice so anyone who has the time (and happens to see this to remind them) can sign up!






In case you didn't know what Camp NaNoWriMo is about, this is from their website:

  • What: Writing a novel from scratch in one month’s time.
  • Who: You! (And about 20,000 other novelists around the world.) Let’s write some perhaps-awful, but definitely lengthy, prose together.
  • Why: The reasons are endless! To actively participate in one of our era’s most enchanting art forms! To write without having to obsess over quality. To be able to make obscure references to passages from our novels at parties.
  • When: You can sign up anytime to add your name to the roster. Writing begins at 12:00 AM on April 1, and again on July 1. To be added to the official list of winners, you must reach your word-count goal by 11:59 PM on the last day of the month. Once your novel has been verified by our web-based team of robotic word counters, the partying begins.


I'm not really into these things, but I have nothing against any device a writer can use to jump-start a project!

Anyway, see ya in August--you'll be busy until then...


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

Monday, June 3, 2013

FSF Challenge - Desolate



Lillie McFerrin Writes
This week's writing challenge from
Five Sentence Fiction
Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt:

 Desolate




Going Biblical this week, something different from what I've done lately. And I've picked Wendell as the character. I like to use that name when the character is in a real mess...





Abomination



Image source: http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-desolate/



Technology was Wendell's golden idol, and his highest achievement, the autonomous nanobots released by the millions to cleanse and maintain the beautiful city, had dispersed to every corner of the metropolis. The nanobots, however, had no one to worship; they had no morals, no emotions, and worst of all, no mercy as they determined the citizens themselves to be the greatest threat to its well-being.

"It shouldn't—it can't—be this way!" he cried.

Yet this abomination of desolation stood where a great flourishing city was supposed to be, its residents fleeing to the mountains for safety. All but one, that is, for Wendell walked deliberately into the destruction, a self-sacrificial offering to his own God, and for the first time in his life, prayed.


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