The Unicorn Challenge.
A magical new weekly writing opportunity from her – Jenne Gray – and me.
Visit her blog every Friday to see the photo prompt, and post your amazing story in her comments section.
Or on your own blog, and stick the link down in her comments.
The rules are:
Maximum of 250 words.
Based on photo prompt.
That’s it.
To hear me read my story, just click here:
Positivement Rue Aubanel
A handsome gentleman wearing the kilt is strolling up a narrow country lane towards a somewhat decrepit stone-built cottage at the top of the slope.
The shutters on the windows are closed, so the inside of the cottage is in near darkness, an inch of sputtering candle barely illuminating the ghastly scene.
One can almost discern that there are three people here, two of them dead.
One corpse is on the floor, the other across the bed in the recess.
The person who is not dead, but surely will be in the fullness of time, is peering into a pot sitting in the fireplace.
The fire has gone out, largely due to a lack of attention and, therefore, fuel.
The person who is not dead, hereafter referred to simply as ‘the person’, smiles contentedly because in the pot is a well-cooked haggis.
And the person loves haggis.
This is not why the person (who, you will recall, is not dead) killed the two people who are dead.
In fact, given that this person has not been tried for the killing of these two people, the reader should not assume any culpability, as the law of the land dictates that one is innocent until found guilty.
However, in truth, the person is guilty as sin, the evidence vivid in the blood-spatters covering face, hands and clothing, and the blood-drenched hatchet still gripped in a (as previously mentioned) blood-spattered hand.
And the gent in the kilt?
He’s just out for a stroll.






Just another day in Ayrsville, some dead bodies, haggis and blood (I imagine they go well together) and a bekilted guy!
My life and lies, Keef, I tell it like I see it!
And the gent in the kilt strolls on. Nothing to see here to spoil a brisk walk. Absurdly funny.
Thanks, Doug, I do like ‘Absurdly funny’!
Oh lordy, may I never happen upon such a thing on a stroll through the woods! Creepy chiller, C.E.!
Just stick with the gent in the kilt, Li, and as the song says ‘Walk on by…’
🙂
Another body for the haggis pot? Good God, man, you’ve done it again!
Ah no, Liz, you can’t pin these on me, they were already deid when I got there, remember?
Still suspicious. Where there’s a will…
Remember the old saying, Liz: Don’t give a sleeping dog a bad name before he’s hatched…
😂😂 And penny saved is a penny burned…so don’t count on it being worth what it was when first grasped in the sweaty paw. Cuz skyrocketing inflation!
What a wonderful prompt you all chose this time. A beautiful wooded area! Who could resist following the path to the secluded little cottage. The murders were scary, but we have come to expect that from you! But what was even scarier was when I googled haggis and read what was in it! That was really frightening!
I’m wondering if unicorns find it tasty?
Unicorns can often be seen frolicking carefree with their Haggis chums through the purple heather-clad slopes of the great ben overlooking the still grey loch…
Dude!*
As the others note: reading this is like looking over the shoulder as the kidnapper glues up his ransom note.
* compliment on a July chiller**
** which as anyone worth listening to will tell you, is a special category of story. Like the small chill of a leak in your boot as you fly fish in a pristine lake.
I like when your comment is even more outlandish (kidnapper, ransom note?) than my already somewhat outre offering.
Get that leak fixed, Clark!
These are the things that happen on 4th Street.
And the kilt-clad gent out for a stroll?
Well, you know.
Finger licking wicked! I love it!
Thanks, Nancy, but all this didn’t take place on Rue Aubanel!
Or, I admit, 4th Street, but then it didn’t appear in the lyrics either.
More language fun!
…or ‘sense in nonsense’.
A genderless gory story ambles along, much like the ‘handsome gentleman wearing the kilt’ who frames the tale – and I’m still laughing.
A g(l)orious escapade.
Sometimes I find it difficult to take life, or any of its component parts, too seriously, and just poke fun at the concept.
Life is just a concept, right?
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