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:
Key Moments
Old.
Weather-beaten.
Decrepit.
Useless.
There was a time, of course, when it had a purpose.
One might even say, if one still had any humour, that it had a key function back in the day.
But it takes a lot to raise a smile now.
It’s hard to remember that it was once the source and the recipient of fun, of happiness, even of love.
It was the proud destination of different ladies, one of whom tarried for many years, improving it beyond measure, providing the interior with a new strength and hitherto unimagined sophistication, and burnishing the outward face to a splendour that belied its humble origins.
She lingered long enough to introduce the thunder of tiny feet, and the laughter which to this day still echoes in dark and dust-filled corners.
Alas, in the words of the world’s saddest song, while dragons may live forever, the same is not true of little boys, or girls, and thus, as time moved inexorably onwards, so too did they and, finally, she.
Much later, briefly and intermittently, a second orchestra of frenetic footsteps disturbed the residue of the past, leaving behind its own unexpected and inimitable symphony to reverberate through the emptiness.
Now there remain only memories, and the inevitability of a return to the dust from which it was created.





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Those were the days my friend, they thought they’d never end – but sadly, and inevitably, they did. Nice one.
Thanks, Keith.
They all do, don’t they…
Sublime throughout.
Puff always makes me cry.
A rich piece, CE.
Thanks, Nancy.
That’s why I wrote a sequel, Puff was far too good to be stuck in a cave forever!
Dust to dust… there it goes. I love that song, (straight to my heart).
Applies to us all, Chris.
Glad the song worked for you too.
dude… triggering total cognitive dissonance here! loved the story and (as many bloghops hope for and rarely achieve) the commentatious conversation*…
A total sitting around someone’s living room on a Friday remembering how enjoyable good conversation can be.
(Full Disclosure: in my head? lots of over-stuffed furniture but, surprisingly or not, none of the leather stuff that fills my fictional studies… nope! For this I go back to post grad school days before we could afford such luxury and were young enough not only to sit on the floor, but to get up.)
*not a ‘real’ word and I’m just vamping until ready… to explain 1) my comment referencing cognitive dissonance and 2) oh, yeah I got what I’m trying to say! When I read your story the first time my reaction was ‘Shit! Just as I start to get a sense of his style, he goes all subjestive and cranks the moody-subjective feel to 11.
Laughing. I love your comments, Clark, they are often as entertaining as any of the stories here!
Re style, I try not to be too predictable, believing that consistency is the last resort of the unimaginative.
So supremely sad, even more than the Peter, Paul, and Mary song. But sometimes places, like people, need a little time to rest and settle, before re-forming into something beautiful. 💙
Thank you, Liz, that’s a really kind and sensitive comment. But do I detect a wee hint of not-like-you soppy?
PS Did you know that for decades I grieved so much over Puck that I eventually wrote a sequel?
Now there’s soppy!
I am never soppy, and never a romantic…categorically denied! 🐒
But I do appreciate the sentiment in others. 😄
Srsly, you wrote a lovely post!
Laughing.
Dat’s my gal!
What a profound and moving life meditation, beautifully written.
I think you need one of your chapeaux.
Sometimes it just works, Jenne, even when you’ve no idea what to write!
And thanks, I do need to protect my fair and delicate skin from the fierce and relentless attack of the Mediterranean sun!
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As long as there’s dust to disturb, and not ashes, the hope of re-birth remains. A poignant piece of imagineering, CE.
Here is mine: https://rosemarycarlson.com/2024/05/09/the-locksmith-unicornchallenge-may-9-2024/
So sorry. For some reason, I thought the word count was 300!
An easy mistake to make, 250 looks exactly like 300 when you’re still asleep.
I just hope Jenne’s not in one of her moods, or you’ll be getting slapped about the elbow with a soggy haggis.
lol lol
Hi Rosemary
Could you repost your story on the Tales from Glasgow Unicorn Challenge blog so that other folk can see it? Thanks. 😉
I don’t understand. Did I post in the wrong place?
Jenne, OK. I misread your request.
Done
Thanks, Rosemary. Off to read your story now…
I don’t care! Get over to her place and post it!
Huh, treating me like a message boy, grumble, grumble…
Now that made me laugh.
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Your prose was beautiful and I almost have no words. You painted a vivid, wonderful picture of times in the past – and the present. What a great take on the prompt!
Thank you, Rosemary, that is very kind.
I’m almost blushing here.