Friday Flash Fiction Train
All aboard the Friday Flash Fiction Train! Each week, a new prompt will take us to parts unknown – sit back, check out the prompt, and enjoy the ride.
But first, some rules.
- Every week, a random prompt will be posted on Friday. Participants have until Wednesday at 12:00 PM EST to write and submit a response in the comment section. Your story must be posted in the comments to count.
- The catch – after the first week with a winner, the responses to the weekly prompts must build off the previous week’s winning entry, continuing its story. To avoid never-ending stories, the contest will reset every 5 weeks. We’re aiming to tell a story in 5-episode bursts.
- Voting will be open to decide a winner from Wednesday at 12PM EST to Thursday at 10PM EST. Voting will be on site and also in our Facebook group, OWS Word Mafia.
- The winning piece will be featured in the next prompt, with links to the winner’s social media.
- Word limit: 400.
- All responses are property of the authors.
- Completed stories might also be compiled into ebooks in the future!
This past week, we had a submission and therefore a winner! B.W. Martin has started off what feels like a coming of age story. Where will you take it next? Check out his entry below and the prompt, then pick up where he left off.
“Look at how she stands,” Clarissa’s voice ran rich with disgust in a mocking tone. The head cheerleader pointed at me and laughed, as I passed the front steps of the High School.
‘Whatever did I do to you,’ I said to myself just before the question brought back memories of the teenager’s response from the times that I bothered asking. Attempting to put a safe space between me and the small group seemed to be a lost cause as every quick glance back, the cheerleaders seemed to be gaining ground.
‘Great.’ My feet picked up the pace as the cafeteria doors came into view, the closest place of freedom I could get to. My training in track and field gave me an advantage as the sound of my shoes on the cement sidewalks became louder and quicker as I entered a slow sprint.
“Oh Joy,” Clarissa called out my name, “where do you think you are going?”
As if Clarissa’s words were a signal, two forms stepped out from around the corner of the building. Prissy expressions played upon their face as I ultimately slowed to a stop, arms at my side I slowly turned around.
‘At least I don’t have any books for her to knock onto the ground.’ The thought began to aggravate me the longer I waited for Clarissa to catch up to where I was. ‘I shouldn’t be happy that I didn’t have anything in my hands, no one should have to go through this.’
“Thought you were getting away from me Joy?” Clarissa’s voice grated my nerves.
“Why do…” My words were cut short.
“Because I can!” Clarissa knew what I was going to ask, blond hairs framed her sarcastic expression as she made her way to stand directly in front of me.
“Just leave me alone!” I could taste the anger and fear in my mouth as I yelled at Clarissa for the first time ever.
“Oh we’re getting brave here Joy? Just take it like the trash you are!”
Without realizing what was going on rage took the reins, all of the years of abuse boiled into this moment. The pain of my knuckles brought me back to reality, my view lowered to Clarissa’s form and her bloody nose being released down the front of her cheerleading outfit.
I never spoke another word to them, and the same was given in respect.
PROMPT: Everybody’s youth is a dream, a form of chemical madness. – F. Scott Fitzgerald
Be sure to check out B.W. Martin at his social media:
Remember – participants should include name/pen name and any links they’d like to share for promotional purposes (Twitter, FB Page, Goodreads, Website, etc).
Not sure you want to play? Check out the contest’s previous incarnation for an idea of how it works.
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