Writespiration #117 52 Weeks in 52 Words Week 21

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.

Tell me the story of why this room is empty

photo-1444419988131-046ed4e5ffd6

41 comments

  1. Hard seen from the perspective of the lens, here it used to be filled with knowledge accumulated through a lifetime of experiences, lining every wall and every nook and cranny but now reflecting that of its owners’ mind, hollowed out, crumbling and ruinous, light entering through empty eyes of a blank mind.

  2. Okay, there is a title that I trust does not count. If it does, ignore it. My tale may not answer the question posed. Rather it might give context. I am in shock, anyways as we anticipate in days a room renovation much like the photo portrays.

    Dan the Demolition Guy

    Dan’s a hard-working guy. Even as a child, you could tell.

    His first word was ‘trash,’ though his weed-blitzed Uncle Charlie offered a minority report that he thought he heard ‘grass.’

    Charlie’s opinion was frequently suspect.

    Dan loved destroying stuff.

    “Kids a natural,” folks said. “Outta go into demolition.”

    And he did.

    http://www.engleson.ca

    1. Also meant to write “Oughta go into demolition.” In the same way that I oughta proofread a tad more efficiently.

    2. HA! well there’s some synchronicity for you!! I love it when stuff like that happens. I hope the demolition/renovation has gone well. And nope the title doesn’t count! 😀

  3. Water trickled through a tiny leak in the eave, soaked insulation, and stained the plastered walls. The bones of the old mansion weakened with rot, and mildew sprouted in the dank interior until the air thickened with the musty stench of corruption. Its battle with decay lost, beauty awaits the wrecking ball.

  4. I wish I could unwrite history…
    For Eilidh MacLeod
    and all victims of hatred and ignorance

    A room lies empty,
    the bed neatly made up.
    Her teenage diary, brimful of hope,
    words sizzling with excitement,
    anticipation:
    May 22nd –
    Manchester! Ariana!
    Now Barra weeps.
    O will this senseless striking out
    of innocence never end?
    Rest in peace, my lovely,
    you are not forgotten.
    Barra, the world weeps with you!

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