Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Twenty-Six, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Autumn!
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):
Freereed
the most famous clown in the world
no-one remembers his name
born on the spring equinox
died on the autumn equinox
came in at the beginning
with white caked face
exited at the ending
with dusty feet
he hid little children in a theatre caravan
the holocaust fires did not burn them
the clever clown was a good liar
demeter’s arms flowed over
white birds fluttered
bones to ash to snow
snow to light to flowers
flowers in the hand of a dusty clown
he blew and blossoms filled the air
each petal lit on a bright face
tears
laughing
TJ
Jay’s cubicle was gray. His monitor was monochrome and his hourly
printouts to the gray-on-gray corporate letterhead had in sixteen years
become as routine as a Thursday afternoon. The ticking clock at length
read 5:30 and he sighed, pulled on his warm but shabby slate overcoat
and took the elevator to the subway level and bumped and jostled along
the three-mile commute home. Trudging up the steps to his tiny beige
apartment he glanced up at the normally sad little tree on the corner
and was startled by a fiery, festive orange spray of foliage. Autumn had
come at last.
Zackmann
I have been to the Land of Autumn where every day is autumn. Every day is warm but not hot.
Every night is cool but not cold. The weather can suddenly change due to see breezes or fog
banks. The land has two weeks of summer but one is in July and one is in October. Having
spent most of my life in the Upper Midwest, an area of the country that has entirely too much
weather, I would have liked to have stayed in the Land of Autumn but I was unwilling to pay
South San Francisco house prices .
Graceful Aeon
It was snowing the night he told her the woman’s name. His look told
her the rest. She felt the knife penetrate her heart.
Snow gave way to lilacs. Dresses were fitted and vows were written.
She noticed his look as he addressed the invitation. She felt the
blow to her solar plexus.
They were dancing in the garden on that June day. The song changed,
followed by his look. She felt submerged in a sea of pain.
They walked through autumn chill past his favorite restaurant. He
slowed and glanced downward. She faced the look and whispered
fiercely, “Enough!”
Abigail
Mornings start blue and broody. Boots cracked stiff with old shit and spent leather
shush cross the floor. Outside hiking up her flannel nightey burrowing her hands as
thin steam rises. The ax handle always slick, “Whore Frost” she thinks, splitting
kindling. The sorrel kicks and farts, for the same hay, same crack in the ice. The
same dogs work circles round her feet, snow trickles against her calves. Kicking the
boots soft and wet by the stove, she calls him, “Coffee’s on.” The fire picks up-
the coffee slow to boil. “Put another log on the fire…” Waylon Jennings
Norval Joe
Everyone assumned she had taken fertility drugs when she bore quadruplet girls.
Born in fall, the first girl had auburn hair. They knew she must be named Autumn. The second daughter with hair, white as snow was named Winter. The third had no hair and was named Spring. The fourth daughter had hair, yellow like the sun, and was named Summer.
The neighbors found more was involved than simple fertility drugs. When Autumn cried the winds blew, when Winter pouted, the snow fell, Spring smiled and the sun shone, but when Summer passed gas, you didn’t want to be around.
Planet Z
Some tropical islands try to create snowpiles for Christmas, but that’s expensive and doesn’t last.
We get fallen leaves shipped in and then airdropped over the island.
Sure, we’ve had a few accidents, like one guy falling out of the cargo plane when it hit an air pocket, and another dropping a full bag that ended up hitting a kid.
And then there’s the mess they make. Leaves don’t melt in the sun like fake snow.
We came up with a solution. Get the kids to rake ’em up. Whoever bags the most wins a prize.
Isn’t the Fall wonderful?