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:
Scaredy Cat
Oh come on, don’t be so feart!
I’m not scared, I lie.
Actually I’m terrified, but I’m even more afraid of being mocked, or even dropped from the gang.
I’m eleven years old, and small compared to the others, even Aileen.
But then she’s a real tomboy and a bit of a bruiser, she can beat any of the boys in a fight.
Well, except maybe Big Rod, but he’s built like Rambo and pure mental.
My physique could be most flatteringly described as scrawny.
Puny would be closer.
Aileen leads the way because Rod’s not here today, gone fishing with his uncle.
He says fishing, but we all know they’re down at the racetrack, breaking into cars.
What now, asks Noddy, as we stand in the middle of the railway line. What’re we here for?
We’ll chuck rocks at the trains, Aileen says, see who can break the most windows.
Or we can play a real game, like chicken, sneers Simon. Stand on the track and see who’s last to jump.
I try to laugh, pretend that he’s joking, but I know he isn’t.
How does that work then, asks Aileen.
We all stand together when the train comes, first to jump’s a sissy, gets the group punishment. Last to jump is leader for the day.
So the four of us crowd onto the track, jostling for position, until we hear the Glasgow Express thundering towards us.
I might be a sissy, but Simon never gets to be leader.
Well done, and quite the surprise at the end. Glad you’ve lived to tell the tale!
Great choice of music, too.
Thanks, Liz, glad you enjoyed.
And yes, it’s a great track, I think.
very nice! reminded me of the movie Stand by Me.
Great little details to draw us into the world of these characters. I like how you explain Big Rod’s absence, the fiction and the reality. With that, and the mention of ‘the gang’, I get a hint of the lives these children are living. The voice of the narrator is wonderful. He knows his place in the pecking order, and he’s not unhappy about it. These children are living on the edge, with their risky behaviour. The tragic ending is bitter-sweet – Simon paid the price for his recklessness, but I’m glad our ‘puny’ hero jumped clear. Wonderful story-telling.
Thanks for this thoughtful comment, Margaret.
I felt that the gang had to be leaderless for the story to work, and the idea fell into place. You won’t be surprised to hear this is based on real characters and almost true events!
Very happy you enjoyed it.
I did enjoy it. It’s great to be able to draw on real life for story material. This one definitely rings true, but I’m just hoping poor Simon’s fate was fiction.
Ooof! You got me with that last line. Well done. Great storytelling.
I do like ‘Ooof’!
Thanks, Sally!
This reminded me of my sometimes childish childhood and playing similar games. Being the sissy isn’t such a bad thing.
It sure beats being dead, Michael!
Nicely done, CE!
Thanks, Chris
What a wonderfully written story
I give it all my praise and glory
From me it needs no correction
I believe it to be perfect perfection
Your endings always are a surprise
Nothing here I can criticize
What a wonderfully written comment
It gave me such a happy moment
Not a hint of criticism
Not even a barbed witticism
So your words of perfect perfection
Are returned with perfect affection
This is a non-reply. I don’t want to ruin this happy moment. Although I do wonder what took you so long to reply?
Went and ruined it. 🙁
My apologies, dear Lady, but I’m in the throes of the sequel to my recently published novel (did you buy it?) and I’m really struggling with it, thinking it might be over-ambitious and outwith my capabilities. I will try to do better.
No problem. Congratulations on the novel and the new one to come. No, sorry didn’t buy your book. I might have if I was in it. Nobody buys my records so I’m struggling to buy a loaf of bread.
Nice one, CE. Captures the experience of surviving childhood so well.
Cheers, Doug.
Or not, in Simon’s case!
Well done, CE (and D)! Everything comes with a consequence, doesn’t it?
Thanks Tom. Your story also influenced that sequel.
I did kind of notice that, D… thanks! 🙂
Thanks, Tom, that’s kinda what life’s all about, isn’t it?
(Damn! jenne steals my words/thoughts again!)
excellent trademark story: engaging exciting, punch-in-the-face ending
Thanks, Clark.
Good to see you back in Unicorn Land
The Sequel:
“Pretty fearless now, aren’t you?”
I considered Aileen’s comment. It was true. I was a self-possessed businessman who calculated risk to advantage. Finally, in middle age, I felt secure.
“If I was a sissy,” I replied as we walked, “I wouldn’t want to grow old.”
Aileen laughed, then said quietly, “I don’t know about you, but my childhood aged me beyond my years.”
I nodded knowingly. “Do you come here much?” I asked.
“No. Not even since the trains stopped and the rails were removed. Look. A peaceful walking path. One would never guess.”
“I’m sure kids still get up to some mischief out here.”
“Probably. You know, there’s always talk that people still hear the train coming through. Some claim they’ve felt the rush of air as it roars past.”
“A ghost train? Aileen, you’re joking.”
“It’s what people claim.”
“Are you scared to walk here?”
“I am, a little,” and Aileen leaned into me, grasped my hand as we made our way down the rail trail. Emboldened, I told her to stop; look; listen.
“Hear that?” I asked. “The train’s coming!”
“Don’t!”
I told myself it was for her own good, that it would help her overcome her fears, move on. I held her hand when she tried to pull away. “Hear it? It’s getting closer.”
“Don’t!” And Aileen yanked away, falling at the side of the trail just as it hit. A massive heart attack that felt like a freight train crushing the life out of me.
Never saw that one coming. Neither did your MC apparently. 😉
Take it from here?
Thanks, Doug, but it was Simon who blinked!
I’m always happy when a reader gets so involved that they are inspired to write their own ending or sequel
The names are marvelous!
Your story jumped out of my computer and damn near told itself.
You’re a gifted teller of tales, you are, CE. Loved it!
Thanks, Nancy, I’m glad it worked for you
Yeah, it worked for me, CE!
Sissies survive to tell the tale. This one is told quite well. As Jenne says, everyone is there.
Thanks, D, I’ll settle for ‘quite well’.
The gang is all there, each character, all the group dynamics.
I can feel the wee 11 year-old’s fear.
And the punch in the understatement of that last line.
You really are an exceptional story-teller.
Thanks, Jenne.
Sometimes a story just comes together…