The Challenge:
Write a flash fiction story (in any format) in 100 words or less, excluding the title. Begin the story with the words, “The goldfish bowl teetered” These four words will be included in the word count.
If you want to give yourself an added challenge (optional, and not part of the judging criteria), see if you can write the story in your own genre (eg if you’re a horror writer, write a horror story; a romance writer, a romance story, etc). To join, see Rachael Harrie's blog for more details.
Here's my attempt. Exactly 100 words:
Title: Blind Sight
The goldfish bowl teetered along the table's edge, a delicate balancing act between life and death. Without thought, he slid the bowl to safety, something he’d done numerous times, and waited for her to show herself.
“I know you’re here,” he whispered.
Chilled breath flitted across his neck, causing the tiny hairs to rise. A whoosh of air set the curtains dancing despite the rooms closed windows. The bedcovers rose, an act of play, before settling once more.
Quite the entrance.
In the far corner, the wispy girl brushed the transparent hair from her eyes and smiled. “Hello, George.”
Write a flash fiction story (in any format) in 100 words or less, excluding the title. Begin the story with the words, “The goldfish bowl teetered” These four words will be included in the word count.
If you want to give yourself an added challenge (optional, and not part of the judging criteria), see if you can write the story in your own genre (eg if you’re a horror writer, write a horror story; a romance writer, a romance story, etc). To join, see Rachael Harrie's blog for more details.
Here's my attempt. Exactly 100 words:
Title: Blind Sight
The goldfish bowl teetered along the table's edge, a delicate balancing act between life and death. Without thought, he slid the bowl to safety, something he’d done numerous times, and waited for her to show herself.
“I know you’re here,” he whispered.
Chilled breath flitted across his neck, causing the tiny hairs to rise. A whoosh of air set the curtains dancing despite the rooms closed windows. The bedcovers rose, an act of play, before settling once more.
Quite the entrance.
In the far corner, the wispy girl brushed the transparent hair from her eyes and smiled. “Hello, George.”
