Flash Fiction Challenge: Time Again To Write An Opening Sentence


That classic challenge is back:

Do not write a story.

Nope. Mm-mm, don’t do it.

Instead:

Write only an opening sentence.

Not two sentences. Not three. One. Good. Sentence.

Drop the opening sentence in the comments below, and then next week we will make use of some of those sentences for the next challenge. You’ve got one week — due by next Friday, the 17th, noon EST. Get cracking, word-herders.


510 responses to “Flash Fiction Challenge: Time Again To Write An Opening Sentence”

  1. The mad-eyed squirrel had followed her to work and now sat outside her window preening the small tufts of fur that covered its battle scarred body.

  2. Helen’s Home and Guidepost for the Wandering and Lost sat on the edge of a forest, in the middle of nowhere, and at least half a day’s walk from anything relevant.

    • oooohhhh. there is an old english word I learned recently that goes with this sentence. apparently people went into the forest just looking for trouble back in the old days..

  3. I awoke to the lingering taste of tarnished copper on my tongue, startled by the slow, cold drip piercing the flesh on the back of my left thigh.

  4. Ignoring his sexy neighbor’s claim to be psychic and her warning of danger had landed Jim in hell…literally.

  5. “When I was young I stole two things: money from a bank, and a priest’s heart, it was delicious.”

  6. 11:38 on a brilliant January morning, as he gasps his last breath, and I stand there, a numb witness, imprinted on the moment like a newly hatched bird.

  7. All those disapproving looks — was it HER fault she misjudged the purpose of the duct tape, bull whip, handcuffs, chocolate sauce and eye mask that sat in such a peculiar arrangement on the coffee table?

  8. As the cackling glee of her disembodied, high pitched voice echoed down the walk, Gerald wondered “Why is she at it again?”

  9. With a calculated swing of his net, Garoul captured the Janiquid and placed it in the pink crystalline container with the others.

  10. Clearly I’m the only weirdo that doesn’t write SFF on here. I write personal narrative and fictional short stories and poetry. Here goes:

    Laying on my back, in a 8 X 10 room; surrounded by pills, notebooks, clothes, and items for health and beauty; feeling nothing but the cold floor beneath me; I began to think about and dread the inevitability of my death.

  11. Richard’s good eye robbed the screen of its information as his hand idly flicked ash into the open mouth of his bosses corpse.

Speak Your Mind, Word-Nerds

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