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:
Rockers
They rock in unison.
Very gently, back and forward, back and forward.
When one stops, the other stops.
They are old and decrepit, creak with every movement.
And the chairs are worse.
But seriously, the couple are getting on, well into their eighties, I’d say.
They sit, side by side, in their little garden, blankets over their laps.
If any neighbour draws near she comments acerbically, verbally attacking their children, their curtains, their new car, whatever.
People keep their distance.
She nags him constantly.
She criticises his clothes, which look as though he hasn’t changed them since the heyday of Rock ‘n’ Roll.
She criticises his hair, which is practically non-existent, a wispy, white tonsure.
She criticises his lack of energy, for always sitting, rocking, in the garden.
He speaks seldom.
When he does it is a murmured ‘Lord, give me peace!’
When I pass this morning she is there alone, dragging her chair towards the house.
‘Is everything okay,’ I ask, ‘Can I help you?’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ she snaps, ‘He fell, he’s confined to bed.’
I mumble commiserations, ask why she doesn’t enjoy the sunshine herself.
A tear escapes her wizened eye.
‘He can’t hold my hand from upstairs.’
Sound Bite Fiction 
From softly harmonious, to harder rocky rhythms, and sudden switch to sweet loneliness. Beautiful flow, CE.
And the comments here? Y’alls crack me up!
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We do grow old. I respond with what first came to mind.
When first I met you my dear
sweet words we always spoke
Whispering softly in my ear
you took away my breath
Now we’re old and cannot hear
to you mean words I poke
But still I love you my dear
I’ll defend you til the death
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That is quite beautiful, dear Lady.
Once again you illuminate the Challenge.
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enjoyable reading (the rhythm of the text for three quarters of the piece)… and, as Nancy alluded to, kept a wary eye for snipers and cream pies*
the actual hook** all the more satisfying for the contrast to expectations
* as in schtick, old-school comedy
** now this is an interesting concept. sure, by now we’ve all acquired that first of ‘I know I’m a Writer when…’ qualities, i,e, a recognizable voice. But having a style that is strong enough to sit in the back of the Reader’s mind that’s something else. While no one is consciously thinking ‘now, he’ll do this’ it is in the back of our mind and allows what those of us in sales refer to as ‘a sharp-angle close’.
Not merely a ‘twist’ more a push in an unexpected direction (emotionally)
good work, yo
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Thanks, Clark.
I’ve come to regard your comments as among the high spots of the Challenge!
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Pardon me but your sweet, feminine side is showing.
I was sure they had sniper rifles hidden under their blankies.
Mr & Mrs Smith really were just Mr & Mrs Smith after all. Lovely.
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She’s just a crabbit auld besom who has her own way of showing love.
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And tis a sweet way …. for a crabbit auld besom
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Ingenious take on the prompt.
And love in one of its many disguises touchingly shown.
(Of course the cynic in me wonders if he fell deliberately to get some of that peace.)
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PS Excellent fade-in of Neil young! 😉
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My best ever segue!
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Thanks, Jenne.
(Auld yins fall often enough par hasard)
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Poignant and to the point, CE. One of your finer pieces, IMHO.
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PS – Your word play with rockers was a gem.
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