Free Writing Fridays
#020 Your 100 Word Story
Let’s get this weekend write-life started! From this Friday forward, I’ll include an image prompt and a few words to get your brain percolating towards a story. But only if you need it! Write whatever sparks joy for you.
Here’s how:
Exactly 100 words. Not 99 or 101. The Word Count Police are tracking!
Genre? Writer’s choice! So long as you give us all the thrills and the feels.
To Fic or to Non-Fic? You decide. What matters most is that you’re satisfied with the output.
Copy/paste your words in the comments, then share on your own Substack, and maybe, share to social media!
A Note on Substack Notes | Click the 🔄 “Restack with a Note” and copy/paste your story for added reach and growth.
IMAGE PROMPT
There is so much rich history that can be found in the span of time of a gnarled tree. What has it witnessed in its life cycle? Who has sat under the shade it once provided? When was it planted? What story will you choose to tell?
REMINDER: You don’t have to write your story just on Fridays! Take this sentiment and free write all weekend long!
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Brash Ambitions
There was a wind flowing through my black hair. It came from high in the hills of Nebraska and hit my paperback book by Kinsey. I look up at the tall, wizened willow with glaze high up. With the clouds blotting the sun and rain far away against the knothole nearby. My dress bloomed in the fall day’s air.
Oh, how I wish to be swept away from this earth and gaze at the celestial heavens, where the secrets of love were held in a locket clasped with a brooch.
Twisting and turning the tree said what I only whispered.
At my roots there is a hole and from it rises a scar, put there by a lightning strike decades ago.
I was young then, barely five feet tall. No child had climbed my branches yet; no young lovers had carved their initials in my trunk; no old men had leaned into me for support.
A day of sunshine erupted in black clouds dropping hail and torrential rain. Wind twisted my trunk just at the moment the electric arc seared through me, leaving me for dead. But I lived. I healed and grew around the wound, becoming stronger than before.