Last week’s challenge: Roll For Your Title
This week’s challenge is easy to describe, but hard to execute:
Write a scary story in three sentences.
That’s it.
Remember: a proper story has a beginning, middle and an end.
It is not merely a vignette.
And, no, really — make it scary.
You will write these stories in the comments below, not at your websites or blog spaces.
I’ll pick my top three favorites to get the whole suite of my writing-related e-books (not including the newest, The Kick-Ass Writer, which will soon be published by Writer’s Digest, nudge nudge).
You’ve got one week.
Due by Friday the 18th, noon EST. One entry only.
Ryan Dunagin says:
Two Sentences:
One morning you wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, take a shower, lock the doors, turn on the car, and drive to work. You realize that you forgot your phone though, so you drive back home, walk right in and retrieve it.
February 20, 2014 — 8:13 PM
Tiago Toy says:
(better late than later)
Mother and son crossed the street crowded with wobbly individuals.
Filthy sounds escaped from their throats. They growled and sniffed around, some bothered even with the touch of their own pals, but soon returned to wander. Seemed not to care about the noise of the gears.
The son, tied up, moaned and struggled in the wheelchair. The mother kept pushing him through the crowd.
August 5, 2014 — 4:23 PM
Tiago Toy says:
(better late than later)
Mother and son crossed the street crowded with wobbly individuals, filthy sounds escaping from their throats as they growled and sniffed around, some bothered even with the touch of their own pals, but soon returning to wander, seeming not to care about the noise of the gears.
The son, tied up, moaned and struggled in the wheelchair. The mother, tears in her eyes, kept pushing him through the crowd.
August 5, 2014 — 4:28 PM
Emily Tanswell says:
Regarding my reflection; gentle hands caressing my features with tipped fingers. They continue until reaching the bloodied hole where my nose should be. Thrust my fingers through the hole and into my mouth, I choke with gurgled laughter.
October 15, 2015 — 8:15 AM
Ken MacGregor says:
Tommy sobbed through the gag as the scalpel popped through the skin of his abdomen. His best friend Sheila spend some time rooting around inside him before glaring into his face.
“I don’t see any snakes, snails or puppy dog tails at all, liar.”
October 15, 2015 — 8:55 AM
Senita de Veaux says:
That was brutally awesome!
November 28, 2015 — 4:08 AM
Ken MacGregor says:
Thanks!
November 29, 2015 — 10:35 AM