2017 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.
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.”
“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.
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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