Pour la Résistance

Image reblogged from swissview at Tumblr

The phone rang at 4am as expected.  She listened then did as she was told and boarded the yellow line west concealing fear and sealing fate against her body. Flanked by commuters, she prayed, then thumbed the trigger.

The challenge: You’re all starting with the same 5 words [The phone rang at 4am.] and your task is to turn it in to your own story in only 33 words. The 5 we have given you are NOT to be counted in the 33 words. Complete the following story in exactly 33 words. Link-up at Trifextra: Week Six.


Rainy Night

Breadwig Photography
Photo Credit: Breadwig Photography

It was a rainy night in Düsseldorf.
Gypsies swayed on sidewalks, singing in the rain,
while clowns serenaded a queen who looked the other way.
We toasted you, my friends and I.
We drank a shot or two of whiskey neat  just to steady my nerves.
It was a rainy night in Düsseldorf, and I was missing you,
you beneath your stars at home,
you without me,


Red Writing Hood

Five O’Clock Diner

The waitress showed the couple to a booth and filled two mugs with coffee without looking at them. “I’ll be back to take your order,” she said, then turned away with the menus still under her arm.

“What’s with her?” He reached across the table and grabbed a handful of pink and white sugar packets, tore the tops off four packets, and tipped them into his coffee. The girl looked at him confused. “The waitress, I mean.” He added four more packets of sugar to his coffee before stirring in milk. “She’s kind’a sour and pinched that waitress. She shouldn’t work here if she doesn’t like people, and she’s way too forgetful. Like, where are the menus?”

The girl shrugged, and reached for the mug of coffee in front of her. Slowly, she dribbled milk into the mug and watched it bloom beneath the surface of coffee.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” He drank half his mug of coffee in one swallow and licked his mustache. “It’s not you, you know. It never was, so relax. Don’t take it so personally.

Through the diner window the girl could see afternoon closing in on supper-time. The diner would start to fill in a half an hour. She looked at her watch. It’s been a day. “It’s done now,” she said.

“Don’t look so worried. She’ll get over it.” He drained his coffee  and looked for the waitress.

“I know. You’re right,” she said, “but I saw the look on her face when you told her. I could see her from the car.  It twisted me up inside to watch her crumble in the door frame, to see that wretched, crushed look on her face and know that she looked this way because of me, because of you, because of everything.”

The waitress returned with menus.

“About time,” he said, slamming his empty mug on the table. “More coffee.” He gestured to the girl, “What do you want to eat?”


Trifecta Writing Challenge. Week 16 word: wretched-adj.

Animal, Vegetable, Mineral

Credit: Meghan McCabe

“I don’t believe it.” Sean drew his finger across the V shaped mandible. “Look.”
“It isn’t her?”  Jackie asked, squinting into the skull.
“No. This isn’t human.”
“Who is it?”
“Not who, but what.”


For this weekend’s Trifextra Challenge, we are asking for a 33-word response to the picture above.  Make what you will of it; there are no rules.  Poetry, prose, comedy, drama–just give us 33 words, on the button.  Have fun with it.

Un Petit Poème

Bad news calls early, ringing urgently, getting her out of bed. She knows before she picks up the receiver (Really, she’s known all along. She is not a fool), but still it comes at her like a freight train as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line tell her a story, the kind of story she would read in the afternoon newspaper, the kind of story she would read and wonder about, puzzling out what had gone wrong in other people’s lives. Listening, she steadies her trembling hand by tracing a finger around a photograph on the dresser. Dust collects beneath her finger. Memory floods her carrying her back to the day she took the photograph, a happy moment preserved. She searches the face in the photograph, tracing the halo of hair like a blown dandelion and wonders what went wrong.


Inspiration: The United States has the highest prison population in the world.  Inmates are someones son or daughter.

Write on Edge

Story Dam

Yellow Woods

Take #1

Standing at the crossroads of indecision with equal possibilities, it’s true one cannot reclaim the beginning, and it’s true regret sours age, but the better choice for the journey is arbitrary and right.

Take #2

Father held my tear-stained face and said, “It’s not choice that matters Eva. Don’t be fooled. It’s what you do with the choices that matters; that’s what makes life worth living.”


The weekend challenge: Take a famous story, poem, book, or fable, and retell it in exactly 33 words.


They say there’s safety in numbers baby,

But there ain’t no safe landing here.

Been at it all night,
Chasing demons to the door.

So go ahead honey,
Have a taste of liquid luck.


Trifecta Week 14 Prompt

Use the word Safeadj.,affording safety or security from danger, risk, or difficulty– in your entry of 33 to 333 words.