When I began writing, I used to spend a lot of time using a site called, Espresso Story, where the stories were 25 words or less. It helped me define a story in a few words until I felt able to increase my word count and descriptions.
Here are a few examples.
The stick flew My dog pounced And collided with him That’s how we met My love and I
Trapped but guilty to move on Loving but alone in a crowd Sleeping but horror in her dreams Smiling but crying within
Free of her kidnapper She fled the horrific basement Running along a darkened road Through torrential rain The driver never saw her
Tantrum: But I want it!!!! You’ll get it alright
Karma: We knew each other from before, Have loved in the present, Now to guarantee our future.
Boat Trip: The boat tips, Water seeps in, No land in sight, Help!
Derelict – definition: 1) abandoned by the owner or occupant; 2) failing to take proper or normal care, neglectful; 3) a homeless and destitute person : vagrant.
Today’s word reminded me of a photograph a friend sent me of a small building in Italy. Inspired I wrote the following. Will it inspire you too? What did you think of my story?
“Oh, what a delightful little building, David, we must get a photo of it. I’ll show Christine when we get home.”
“It’s certainly interesting, Sally, and I’m sure Christine will get a kick out of it. I wonder what the wooden frame is for.”
The forever curious, David, circulated the building happily taking numerous shots from every angle. Meanwhile, Sally opened their picnic basket, spread out the blanket and began placing cheeses, fresh rolls and olives onto plates.
“You must have enough photos now, David, come and uncork this wine.”
While relishing the fresh rolls and tangy olives, the couple enjoyed the Tuscany countryside surrounding them. The sparse shade eased the heat of the sun but still little beads of sweat glistened on their brows.
“Why did we leave this trip so long, Sally? Even the kids would have loved it here.”
“There was so much to organize around, my dear, with Michael’s sports and Christine’s horse trials the summers just flew by. But you are right they would have loved it.”
“We’ll just have to make the most of our free time then. Maybe we can persuade them to come with us next year – what do you think?”
“A really lovely idea, David, but Michael has his tournaments in the summer and Chrissie has her company – I’m not sure they would be able to come.”
“Surely, Chrissie could manage time away she has three staff to man the building projects now and I know for a fact Michael has another coach to substitute for him. I’m going to ask them when we get back.”
Sally breathed in deeply to calm herself. Once David got an idea there was no dissuading him and trying to reason with him just made him even more bull headed. She took a large gulp of wine and shook her long blonde hair wishing for a slight breeze to cool her body. Without looking she knew David would be frowning at her for not sipping the wine but they were on holiday and she wanted to stay relaxed.
“I’m going to take a few photos of the valley, there’s a vineyard along it. I’ll be back soon.”
Sally tried to stop her petty thought before it began but there it was – he never helps clean up. After twenty five years of marriage the little things niggled the most. Now stop it, enjoy the view and the rest of the wine – tell him it toppled over when he comes back.
She watched her husband walk over a slight crest and vanish out of sight then lay back to watch the clouds float past, wondering where they had come from and where they were going. It was the ultimate freedom floating on the breeze. Sally enjoyed another gulp of the dark red liquid savoring the taste on her tongue. It was so peaceful she wished it was always so.
A creaking sound drew her attention to the little building, the doors had wooden planks that nailed them shut so what could creak? Maybe time and weather had worn it down enough that it would collapse. As Sally watched the plank fell away and the nearest door opened to reveal a strikingly handsome man with dark hair and eyes. I must be dreaming – too much wine in the heat.
“Sofia, come to me, my love, our time has come.”
His voice was deep and husky, mesmerizing her for that moment.
“My name is Sally you have me confused with someone else. How did you get out of that little shack?”
“Do not trouble yourself with the appearance of the portal, my love, take my hand and we will return home together.”
“A portal, now really what game are you playing? This is such a weird dream.”
“How can you question a dream while you are still dreaming it?”
“I have no idea but I think I may have sunstroke. I’m sorry I can’t help you. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to find my husband.”
“Husband…but here I am in front of you, my darling, Sofia. Let me show you our path home.”
With a slight shake of her head Sally decided to see where the dream would take her so took the man’s hand and walked beside him toward the building. His hand felt so real, its texture and heat – she had never had such a vivid dream. As they approached the doorway he stood to one side to let her enter. The interior was not that of a weather beaten shack but a lavish entrance hall with a tiled floor and beautiful curved staircase.
“Now I know I’m dreaming this is impossible.”
“You have returned to me and our home, my love. I have waited so long.”
Maybe David was right about gulping the wine after all.
“Sally? Sally, where are you? Come on honey we need to get back to the hotel.”
David had returned to find the picnic tidied away but the rug still spread on the grass and the empty wine bottle laying on its side. Initially he thought Sally had gone to find a sheltered spot to relieve herself, but when she didn’t return after five minutes he began calling out. Now twenty minutes had past and still no sign of her. Where could that damn woman be? An hour later with the sun setting and his voice hoarse from shouting, David picked up their picnic things and returned to the hotel.
His frantic shouts of help had the staff rushing to his side as he entered the foyer.
“Please calm yourself, Signore, what has happened?”
“My wife…she’s disappeared, we have to call the police, get them back there.”
“Where exactly were you, signore?”
“Up on a hill overlooking the vineyard to the west of here, we set out a picnic next to a shack with a frame above it. Please hurry we need to find her.”
In his panic David did not notice the glances between the hotel manager and several of the staff.
“This shack you speak of, were the doors boarded up?”
“Well…yes, how would you know that? Have you been there?”
“Yes, Signore, there are many stories of strange things happening around it. Some say it is a portal to another world, others that it is haunted.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, this is serious my wife is missing, I don’t have time for games. Get the police on the phone now.”
The manager dialed a number and spoke quickly. David couldn’t stay still so paced back and forth across the tiled foyer. Once the manager had finished speaking he looked up expectantly.
“Well, are they on their way? Should we go to the shack and wait for them there?”
“Signore, it is best you travel with them.”
David commenced his pacing until the sound of sirens could be heard. He ran to the front of the hotel to meet the policemen. He was shocked to see a white van instead of police vehicles and two men in white coats.
“What is this? What’s going on? Didn’t you understand me? We have to find my wife.”
“Please, signore, go with these men, they can help you.”
The two men stood to each side of David and firmly took hold of his arms. He began struggling but a sharp prick from a syringe had him calm in no time. The manager shook his head slowly, glad that the incident had not become violent.
“You are home, my love and everything is perfect again.”
“I have to go back to my real life you must understand that, this isn’t real.”
“Oh but it is real, my darling Sofia, that other world can no longer hold you. I have ensured your absence is explained.”
“What are you saying? What did you do?”
“You are no longer alive in that world, your over bearing husband resides in a mental institution and the children you bore are here with us but young again. We will enjoy our children the way a husband and wife should.”
“Are you saying I died?”
“That world was the unreal one, my love; you were stuck there for such a long time.”
Sally…Sofia shook her head, everything felt so familiar in this grand house. Gradually her memories came back and she led the life she had always dreamed of.
I ask you to welcome Vicki Batman, author of delightful short stories. Hence the link with the word Proliferate – definition: to grow or increase in number rapidly. It seems Vicki has an abundance of stories to thrill her readers.
a) Of the characters you have created or envisioned, which is your favorite & why?
I love all my babies; however, in one I sold to True Romance, the hero is Webber Whitlock whom the heroine calls Witless, but he is definitely not.
b) Do you favor one type of genre or do you dabble in more than one?
I write contemporary romantic short fiction. However, I’ve written 3 books and sent them out to publishers.
c) What do you enjoy most about writing?
Two parts: The rough draft where anything and everything goes and revising when I get a critique because it makes me better.
d) Have you got a favorite place to write?
I write every day at my desk. It is a fun room with color and my covers on the walls. The window overlooks the porch where squirrels run by, lizards creep over the railing, and birdies play in the flowering quince. Really, quite lovely.
e) Do you plan your stories, or are you a seat of the pants style writer?
Sorta both. Because I write romance, there’s a beginning, a black moment, and a happily ever after. What happens in between is the seat of the pants stuff.
f) What inspires your stories?
Usually, I hear a badabing! And the story takes off.
h) Do you have any odd habits or childhood stories?
My favorite story is about my mom and reading. When I was on summer break, my mom took us to the library every other week. Once, I took a tall stack to the check-out where the librarian said I couldn’t possibly have that many books, that I wouldn’t read them all. Any kind of reprimand paralyzed me. I turned away with a sob. My mom noticed and I explained. She marched me back to the desk and said to let me have them all. That I would read the books, probably twice, and my sisters’ as well. I did.
i) Do you have any pets?
Yes! I have an eighteen year-old cat, Scootsie, and two year-old malti-poos, Champ and Jones.
j) Do you belong to a writing group?If so which one?
I belong to several-RWA, the Dallas, Elements, and former WF chapter.
k) What age did you start writing stories/poems?
I began writing poetry at age nine.
l) Do you have a book published? If so what is it called & where can readers purchase it?
I have had 22 published stories, 14 in True Romance, True Love, and True Confessions. “I Believe” is at Noble Romance; “Store Wars” and “Twinkle Lights” at MuseItUp Publishing; “Man Theory and Other Stories” and “Little Birdie Who…and Other Stories” are indie published. All but the Trues are available at Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, the respective publishers, and Smashwords.com.
m) If you could meet one favorite author who would it be and why?
Dick Francis-simply because I love the way he writes. I actually met him at a book signing and he liked my last name.
n) If you could live anywhere in the world – where would it be?