Skip to main content

Snippets from 100for100: Week Nine


     The bell rang for dismissal at the end of the day, and moments later I was trotting down the front steps of the school – trotting away from the great altar. 


     She looked disappointed by my short answers but I didn’t care.  My world was crazy enough as it was and it felt oddly satisfying to have control over the length of my replies. 


     Then the dark-haired boy plunked down in his newly acquired seat, propping his elbow over the back of it so he could grin at me.


     In the end, he smiled again.  “I own the bus,” he said.
     Bluff, I thought.


     Mason didn’t think my life was hard.


     Whatever my face expressed, it delighted Charlie even more.  He winked at me and headed back to his own seat.



     In my room, I plopped onto the floor by my bed and dug Mason’s picture out of the backpack.  With my finger, I traced the little paradise he had made under the great, hulking rock.  If only it were as beautiful as he imagined...

Labels:

Comments

  1. JackNovember 16, 2014 at 12:47 PM

    Those were enough to draw me in and make me want more!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Esther Brooksmith (wisdomcreates)November 18, 2014 at 9:12 AM

    Thank you, Jack! I am working steady on this one and hope to be able to publish it for the public to read.
    Keep up the good work on your own writing, by the way. :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Short Story Break

via Pinterest     It has been a while since I penned a short story.  Usually it takes something like a "short story contest" to inspire me.  But I have noticed my writing skills improve with each contest so there is something to be said for writing short stories.      I say all this to lead into the fact that I am going to try another short story.  There is no contest looming on the horizon, but it has been so long that I think I am due to write a short piece.  Life cannot be entirely devoted to novel-length plots...      I am rolling around different ideas in my head.  There is no one to give me the first three words or a picture to base my story on.  There are no restrictions, no props, and no judges.      Methinks I will try something that is both epic and ordinary...something I have seen before.  After all, personal experience, great things, and the expression of the...
2 comments
Read more

More Snippets from Snow White Rose Red

    One of the shadows moved.   “Were you just going to chuck it in there with no thought for the poor folks on the other side?”   Flip’s voice drawled out.   It was a deep voice and it made my heart skip a beat.      He moved away from the trees and came to stand in front of me.   “Some hard-working fellow is plowing his field and then – whop!   Out of nowhere, a poisoned apple flies out and hits him upside the head.”   He clucked his tongue reproachfully.
1 comment
Read more

The Countdown: Eight Days

Eight days.  Do you know what that means?  Barely over a week.  Tomorrow will be one week from the announcement date. Are you excited? I am. So, today, I want to talk to those who wrote something for the contest, whether or not you entered it in the end. What made you start writing your story?  What was the first inkling of an idea that tickled your brain?  What was it that you liked about your premise?  As you wrote, did you have a favorite character or a favorite scene?  And are you glad you wrote it down?  Do you feel like you learned and grew in your ability as a writer as you tried out things for this contest? And, if your story isn't included in this year's Rooglewood anthology (either because you didn't submit it or because it didn't fit with the other four stories selected), what will you do with it?  Will you market it elsewhere?  Or will you lock it away in a drawer?
20 comments
Read more