Writespiration #103 52 Weeks in 52 Days Week 7

writespiration-20172017 brings 52 challenges over 52 weeks.

Your challenge 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.

Pingbacks aren’t too reliable at the moment so it’s worth dropping a comment to say you have posted – just in case. 

This week include the theme below in your story:

The distance between…

Now to last week’s entries and the moment you see your ex with their hot new bit and you look like a turd.


It’s my volunteer day with the equine therapy group. What’s he doing here, and with that bit of red-headed fluff on his arm with the hankie over her nose? No comparison man! I might look like that pile of turds on the grass, but she’ll never hold a candle to me.



We were doing a paint project outside when daddy came to pick the kids up for the weekend.
He looked uptight, she was all dressy.
I was covered in paint, tangled hair.
She had a frown and seemed uncomfortable on her stilettos early in the morning.
I had a big smiling face.



Exercise class on a Saturday afternoon, great idea!

Frizzy hair sticking out and sweat running down my back, perfect for a confined train.

Even better when you bump into a glamour model who says to her boyfriend

“do you smell something?”

who turns out to be your ex.

Ground swallow whole, please.



There I was, covered in muck, and he walks past with his hunk of a boyfriend in tow. I felt so sad that he’d left me.

Then I noticed the numbers, on the back of the hunk, were red. I smiled. He’d be a bacon sandwich this time next week.

“Oink, oink!”



I know what lurks beneath
The rippling muscles and the silky hair.
I know what’s underneath
The sultry eyes and the way he stares.

He always said I was soft and sweet
Too trusting and too prim,
But I have a heart that always beats
And I can’t say that for him.



I hitched up my track pants, hugging the ice cream tubs closer, not caring about the cold.

A girl came down the aisle, giving me a pitying smirk. Bitch. All long legs and glossy brunette hair.


I turned, my heart lifting at the familiar endearment… to see her in his arms.



I needed to incite envy, to arouse Ruby’s interest in me. I spent the evening dancing with Julia, though she was not my type of girl. Who cared, as long as I succeeded? Ruby did not appear to care either. I walked out alone, crestfallen, not knowing which one was the ex.



‘Well? What was she like?
‘Tall, beautiful, willowy,’
‘Hanging on to his arm like a limpet, breathing in his heavy aftershave (I hated it by the way), sucking up to every lying word.’
‘Did they see you?’
‘How do you feel?’
‘Like the bun to her hotdog, pale and stodgy’.



My mate turned white as his wife appears on the other side of cell gate. I was still heavy in my head, eyes hazy for broken spectacles. I saw her through broken glasses. After two years I saw her. Are you going to quit drinking or not, memoirs echoed from long distance…



Looking at you two, she, petite, blonde, blue-eyed, I understand. I catch your eye, smug, triumphant. I see the way she looks at you. She is all that I am not, gives you what I could not. She has got what I never had, that look, empty and vacuous, of unconditional adoration.



I ruffle up my hair, no time to brush, rush out the door. Shit, I’ve picked the top with holes in! Three spots I have no time to conceal scream Stop and Look, like traffic lights. My ex and his new piece appear. She makes the sun look dull. They die laughing.



Skulking into the dentist’s surgery, with my chipped front tooth, I thank God for emergency appointments.

Looking up, I see him, my ex, with someone who looks like the Goddess of Perfect Teeth!

He pecks her on the cheek, “Pick you up at 5, snugglebum!”

Trust him to be dating my dentist!



Ingrid walked into her friend’s party and there was her ex and a woman. She overheard someone say he was married. She could hardly believe it. He’d called her only last week. She didn’t care that she’d thrown herself together. She walked up to him and said, “Introduce me to your wife.”



I’d nipped out for some bread

Crawling straight out of bed

I couldn’t care less

I looked such a mess

My tummy had to be fed

Suddenly out of the blue

My ex came into view

Holding hands with his tart

It broke my poor heart

That I looked just like poo



The phone rings.
“Why are you calling me?”
“I’m trapped on the toilet.”
“What the fuck?”
“If I stand, the water disconnects. The bathroom floods.”
“We’re divorced?”
“Because your old bit stopped working.” He laughs.
“You saw my new girlfriend. She’s my new hot bit and doesn’t look like a turd.”



Maybe I should’ve walked Zorro down a different street. Maybe. But I was curious. And the Chihuahua was so missing Henry.

Maybe I wasn’t expecting to lay my old eyes on damn Charlie and his sparkling Clarice. That’s what he’d said, you know, “You have old eyes, Paula.”

Charlie could be cruel.



The Stroll

Two weeks’ wages, but it’s totally worth it.

God, he’s gorgeous. Thirty, tall, muscular, wavy, chestnut hair, and dressed to kill.

‘What can I do for you?’ he whispered in his sexy voice. I almost succumbed.

Instead I said, ‘Let’s take a walk.’

My sixty-year-old ex’s face as we stroll past? Priceless.



I catch my reflection in the window, it screams “what were you thinking” and then I see them. Mr “it’s not my fault you let yourself go” and his arm candy, heading my way. I will not panic. I will stand my ground. I duck my head and disappear into the crowd.


Sue was in amongst one of the missing pingbacks from last week.

Coming home from school at tea-time was an adventure.  You never knew, you could find anything from rabbit stew to sheep’s heads, swimming in greasy juices for the dogs, or a game pie, stacked with mushrooms and pastry. Perhaps an omelette made with eggs from the pigeons. Then mother served up Fred…

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  1. The distance between objectivity and corners in your mind harboring dust bunnies bigger than your conscience—the dustballs that shelter your core even while they shame you—that distance makes you pray suppressing fires will burn away the dross. Then you realize how big those bunnies are. Big, unrelenting. Oh, so beautiful.

  2. I will give this a go,. There is a wordpress thing going on… no place to reply or comment in reader? You, or maybe it is just me … needed to go to the page through the internet. Maybe that is why i am getting only likes and not comments at the moment? Just thought I would alert you. ??? Have a good week I will be back with my entry soon. X

    1. I’m showing up in the WordPress reader?? That’s interesting. I’m self hosted now so I didn’t think I was in the reader any more.

      So what you’re saying is you can’t comment on my post unless you’re in a browser?

      1. As self hosted you show in my reader because I added your url to follow you. But can only like from.the reader. To comment you need to visit the page xxx

  3. The Distance Between

    As a twin I knew what she’d do. Not identical, ok but still. Lie, set me up, diss me. She said she wasn’t the same but years after we grew apart I’m rushed to hospital. When I wake it’s her I see, reaching, touching my face. ‘I knew,’ she said through tears.

  4. No distance between the earth and sky
    between the ocean and its sandy bed
    no distance either when at night we lie
    entwined, forever newly wed
    However far we are apart
    there is no distance that can sever
    a love tied so tightly at the heart
    and custom made to last forever

  5. https://sachablack.co.uk/2017/02/15/writespiration-103-52-weeks-in-52-days-week-7/
    52 word writing challenge – theme:  The distance between

    I seek  the wildness of glacial boulders and the crooked country lane. I can’t abide by the measured distance between American teeth. Anything less than an assembly line set is returned to the factory for adjustment. On her deathbed, my mother begged for me, “Her teeth.”  I  lost them forever.

  6. Child Rearing in Canada

    “Use your noggin, eh,” she would say when I asked her a question. “The distance between your outer left ear and right ear is full of space, time, and memory.”

    “But my noggin’s tired,” I would whimper.

    “Holy mackerel,” she would yell to the Fish God,” spare me from this dithering trout.


  7. Near and far:

    The distance between this world and the next, is just the breadth of a single hair.
    Like that single copper strand falling into the eyes of your wide-eyed, six-year-old boy.
    The same son, you now rock and console as you watch the distance between you grow.
    As his soul slowly slips away.

      1. Thanks Sacha! It got me too. I still find it ridiculous that my own stories can sneak up on me like this! I like the opening. Might use it in another story?
        Thank you as always for your brilliant prompts and thought-provoking blogs!

  8. I begin as starlight. The universal spirit, embodied in human form. To experience humanity and all its trappings. Time ravages. Aging. Transforming from vibrant to vacant. My inner spark soars, rejoining the source. My vessel, longingly returns to the Earth. To the familiar. The distance between is life. The journey completed, exhilarating.

  9. Another brain moving prompt, Sacha.

    Climb to the top
    Ever searching
    Need for success
    Masks the fear
    Try is imbedded
    Blindly we go
    Clearing barriers
    Feeling the thrill
    ​Daring the mind
    Ignoring the soul
    Reaching the edge
    Elation is short
    Another abyss
    Always a test
    Fear to succeed
    Looms in shadows
    Conquer we must
    The distance between


  10. Great group of 52s from last week. Sneaking in on a Sunday to play!

    Walking the distance between car and clinic heightened my dread. Protesters spat venom.

    “Baby killer!” The man who screams at me is clueless.

    I’m 52 and no longer fertile. Not everyone entering Planned Parenthood wants an abortion.

    If it’s cancer and they close the only clinic I can afford, who’s the killer?

  11. Okay so time to stop lurking and actually participate amongst real, live people on these haha. Been joining in for a little bit but never had the balls to post till now so…here I go!

    What am I willing to do to fix us? To close this gap between us.
    You seem unbothered by it. Why can’t I leave it alone?
    You sit there, your face alight with the insight of the world shining towards you.
    You still know nothing.
    How can I explain this isn’t enough?

    1. WHAT????? AS IF YOU JOINED IN AND NEVER TOLD ME. Outrageous. Well, I am honoured you’re finally among us. And I hope you’ll come to the Bloggers Bash too.

      Beautiful flash by the way, something that cuts deep because I’ve been there before. Sigh. 🙂

      1. Haha! 😀
        Thanks! 🙂

        I feel as if I’m totally out of the loop but I actually am not even sure what the Bloggers Bash is?! Should I be cast out because I don’t know?? 😉

        1. Okay I so I found the info for it on your site and OMG I want to come…but I live in California so alas, I shall have to watch from afar! Maybe next year! 😀

          1. oh man 🙁 I didn’t realise you were that side of the pond. We are having a few from across the pond this year, but too short notice. THE BASH WILL BE BACK, and I’d love to meet you 😀

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