Challenging Writing Prompt

Again we come to the fifth Monday of the month so I am going to give you a challenge. This prompt is to write a story between three to five hundred words. The catch is all the sentences in the piece must contain no more than four words each.  This means you have to write with clarity and every word must count.

Here is an example that I wrote back in August of 2016.

MTChair

 

The Empty Chair

By Marie Staight

It was very hot. The boy came in. Perspiration soaked his hair.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Hamburgers, baked beans and …”

The boy’s nose wrinkled. “Not corn again?”

She smiled. “Rather it is Okra?”

The boy turned away. “No. I hate that stuff.”

“Go wash up. Dinner is nearly ready.”

The bathroom’s door slammed. Water was running.

“Use soap!” His mother shouted.

“Oh Mom …” he whined. More sounds of water.

She set two places. She fingered the utensils. She looked up, wistfully. The empty chair loomed. She turned her back.  “Come on now. Time to eat.”

The boy appeared again. His hands examined.

“Okay.” She said. “Sit down and eat.”

He sat across. His eyes never straying.  He couldn’t look. He knew. Magically the hamburger appeared. She plopped it there. “Ketchup?”

“Yes, please.” The bottle appeared.

“Pickles?”

“Yes, Please.” Pickles piled high appeared.

“Mustard?”

“Yes, Please.” The yellow bottle appeared.

“Peanut Butter?”

“What?”

“Peanut butter?”

He looked at her. Her lips smirked. It was a joke. He did not smile.

“No Thanks.”

It was quiet. Only munching was heard.

She was up again. “Corn’s ready.” She said. Plunk! The plate rattled. Steam rose off the cob.

“Thanks.”

“It’s hot.” She said.

He nodded. “Butter?”

“Of course.” She brought the butter.

He slathered the corn. Reached for the salt. Salted the corn heavily. She lifted her hand. He stopped shaking. “Okay…” he said annoyingly.

“Too much.” She said.

He stared downward, pausing. She nodded. He resumed gnawing. The corn disappeared. He sucked the cob.

“Want more?” She asked.

“Yes, Please.” He stole a look. The empty chair existed. He stared. Sadness overwhelmed him. She turned. She bit her lip. She longed to hug. He rebuffed her. He was too old.

Heartbroken, they wept.

“He is gone.”

 

Good Luck. Write me a note in the comments below as to how you did. I would love to see your finished products! Happy writing.

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