Writespiration #99 52 Weeks in 52 Words Week 3

writespiration-2017As you know 2017 is my year of 52 challenges over 52 weeks.

SO, your challenge if you choose to accept it, is to write your story using the weekly theme/prompt and write it in just 52 words…. EXACTLY, no more, no less.

Submit your entries in the comments or on a blog post and I post them the following week with the new prompt. You have until Sunday to enter.


If I missed anyone this week, I can only apologise, I finished this post at ridiculous o’clock this morning because I was finishing up my edits of 13 Steps to Evil, which has now been sent to beta readers. So, I was more than somewhat delirious collecting the entries!

Cover reveal coming REAL soon…!

This weeks theme:

Lost Things


Now to last week’s entrants:


My brother’s girlfriend visited one day

I was unsure what to say

“Would you like a hot drink?”

Was all I could think

 To the kitchen, I scuttled away.

I emitted a loud ‘ACHOOOOO!’

On walking back into view

Her look of surprise

Couldn’t disguise

She’d heard the trump I’d done too!



‘Dead? How?’
‘Knitting needle in the ear.’
‘Blimey. Aren’t they too old?’
‘Matron says it’s not unusual for fights. Taking someone’s chair, using their stick, having more visitors. Lots of jealousy.’
‘So what caused it this time?’
‘Bridge. He played four spades.’
‘Oh no. Was it the Henderson gambit?’
‘Exactly. A badly timed trump.’



She could feel the pressure building.

The music was loud. Surely letting one go wouldn’t hurt…

They slipped out to the beat of Beyonce’s latest release.


Last one.

Out it came, loud and proud, as the dj faded the tune out so the Groom, her new husband, could start his speech.



Her hand seemed perfect.
Three Aces, two Kings, two Queens.
It was her turn.
A Queen first (having the king and ace), she grinned.
First round to her.
The King followed.
Round two won.
Then the Ace.

Another grin, wiped off in a flash.
Two of trumps, of which she had none.



A badly timed trump once lived in a stump
Along the wily old woods
He got rather greedy with morals all seedy
And gathered his cronies and hoods

He ran to be chief that horrible thief
Elected? We shouted in fear
Oh, trepidation plagues the whole nation
A travesty lasting for years!



Nellie had packed her trunk and turned her back on the circus. At last she was free. She trundled down the leafy lane with a song in her heart that exploded in a wild trumpety trump, trump, trump…

From the picnic site goggle-eyed children surged. “Look! The runaway elephant!”

Nellie was buggered.



It was a sombre occasion, you could see your breath leave your mouth. The pews all waxed and lillies beautifully bookended the pulpit. A vicar as old as the church itself went up the steps, releasing a loud trump which riccochet off the walls. He  sniffed.loudly as the funeral march began.


I missed this awesome entry from the first week, so I am posting it now.


The timer started, a slight mistake, but nothing she hadn’t handled before.

She looked at the wires and the device they were connected to, the next choice crucial.

Sweat started to bead slightly on her forehead, as the red numbers flicked downward.

She selected the wire to cut.

You can do this.



‘Heard about Liberty’s new husband?’

‘Tall, dark and handsome, knowing her.’

‘Overweight, blonde, ugly and rude.’

‘But she’s beautiful, generous and kind!’

‘Go figure.’

‘What’s his trump card?’

‘Perhaps she was lonely and depressed.’

‘So he popped up at the right time?’

‘Badly timed, you mean.’

‘Whoever introduced them?’

‘His Russian friends.’



‘I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.’
He lifted my veil, tears in his eyes. Leaned in, eyes tightly closed.
It had been the perfect day, traditional yet modern. Just as I had dreamed it as a child.
Then it happened; the badly timed trump. How embarrassing!



They sat discussing polls and favorable outcomes. A ruckus from outside the office as an intern barged into the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Have you seen…It’s all over the news!”

They grabbed at the tablet and despaired.

“Grab ‘em by the…how did this get out?”

“Badly timed Mr Trump.”


Ann E. Robson

Each deep in thought of the pending strategy. No time to confer or review. The next move was going to be disastrous. Who would be the one to cause the end? Time to make a move. Groans erupt. Playing card tossed. The badly timed trump for those not making their move sooner.


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  1. Lost and Found:
    ‘Katie, is that your name darling?’
    ‘Yes’ she whispered, tears dripping onto the cracked, kitchen table.
    ‘Are you scared, Katie? It’s scary when you’re lost, but I am good at finding lost things’ he sneered, his hot breath on her ear.
    ‘You belong to me now, precious, because it’s finders, keepers.’

      1. Thank you so much for the compliment! I love these challenges because you really have to whittle and distill your words right down. But it does great things for the intensity!

  2. You’re getting 53 words. I already cut it down from 66. 😛

    Where is it?
    I had it right here.
    It was attached to my outfit,
    How could it disappear?

    I searched high and low,
    It vanished from sight.
    Outside I go,
    The sun shining bright.

    I shielded my eyes,
    On top of my head,
    I looked to the skies,
    Where my glasses laid spread.

  3. Oh! This is FUN! Here’s my little contribution:

    Roosevelt stumbled through the yawning, black doorway. A dark lump rasped and wheezed. Curtis.

    Slowed by pain, Roosevelt found his friend’s hand and left the bloody Springer with the dying man. Working back to his feet, he reached to adjust the money-bag, only to remember when it tore loose in the fight.

    1. I did – did I not publish it????? OMG I didn’t RAGE. That was in that mess up – how did that happen? I copied in when we were texting. Okay I am going to find it and post it in this week. So cross.

      1. Not this time. I say I don’t get any notifications but it’s not strictly true. I get a few mainly from blogs I follow but not actively if you see what I mean. The blogs I do follow and the posts I would like to read have just stopped appearing. I’ll get onto it when I find the time.

        1. So weird. Mine did take two months to go back to normal. I don’t know what I’d done. but I felt like I’d had an arm cut off. I can’t remember everyone’s blogs. I rely on them dropping into my inbox.

          1. Exactly. The ones that regularly pop up (like every day) are blogs I followed recently but aren’t ‘friends’. Many of the ‘friends’ have dropped off the face of the planet.

  4. Posters went up all over town. Twitter and Facebook squawked out dread and desperation. Hundreds of pets: “Lost!”
    Cruella Deville stalked the holding-pens, sorting for colour and rich fur… Dogs howled.
    Officer Davey, following the tracker planted on his pet, uncovered the factory.
    Hundreds of pets: “Found!”
    Cruella hated her new bracelets.

  5. Lost things
    Lunch money every day in kindergarten. Favorite softball glove. Library books. Buff, my dog. Balance frequently. Fifteen hundred dollars in cash. Screenplay. Some inhibitions. Couple of jobs. Few sets of keys. Too many ideas to count. Motivation. Mind. Patience. Confidence. Direction. Control. Everything. Nothing. Time. More Time. Judgment. Pride. Guilt. Excuses. Fear.

  6. ​I am loving the challenge the criteria of 52 words is giving my brain. Thank you for the jump start into the new year, Sacha.

    The drawer gaped open. String, mismatched shoe laces, and pens long dry and useless. Among the menagerie, a key poked out from the wall’s edge. His heart pounded like the rhythm of a horse at full gallop. The key to the diary pages of Gran’s story, the lost things of her memory.


  7. I stared in the mirror. Gray hairs shone brightly in the light, not amenable to being hidden away. Lines etched into my skin, highlighting the puzzled expression on my face. Where had the time gone? My eyes slid to pictures on the wall of milestones and precious memories. Ah. I remembered. There

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