Tags and Challenges

writing flash fiction and daring you to do the same (the “write a prompt” tag)

Saraina Whitney

GUESS WHAT? I’M DOING ANOTHER BLOG TAG.

Lol remember the days when all I would post was new installments of the Sunshine Blogger Award? Classic. 😂

Anyway, I spent hours working on my WIP today (translation: I’m brain dead) and want to reignite my creativity with a fun new blog tag I just stumbled across, created by Emily Waldorf! ✨ Without further ado…

the rules

  1. Link back to the creator of the tag and thank the blogger who tagged you.
  2. Write a short story, poem, or flash fiction inspired from one (or more) of the prompts of the person who tagged you.
  3. Make 5-10 of your own prompts. They can be anything: phrases, single words, quotes, pictures, music–get creative.
  4. Have fun! (and let me know if you do this so I can read yours).
  5. Tag 4-8 other bloggers

My prompts: Tell Her I’ll Wait on the Other Side ~Amadea Music Productions

All I did was play this music and write the scene that came to my imagination as I listened…I hope that counts lol.

on a night like any other

The night was like any other. I was shivering on the doorstep to my family’s broken-down house, my head hanging from exhaustion but my body unable to shut down. The bruises swelling on my back wouldn’t allow it.

Mama hadn’t tended to them. I hadn’t expected her to.

She was scared of him too. Caring for me was an unpardonable sin, I’d learned early on.

My head ached, and I rubbed it with my icy fingers, vaguely hoping I wouldn’t wake up ill with a fever again.

Footsteps crunched in the snow.

I jerked upwards, stiff as ice.

Squinting, I tried to make out the figure approaching me through the moonless, cloudy night.

My muscles twitched. I’d had practice defending myself, heaven knew, but I was too small to overpower a man.

“Wh-who’s there?” my voice quivered, shrinking into myself. Confound it, why couldn’t I sound strong and brave?

A hand rested on my shoulder, and I startled, my blood racing through my veins, until I realized how soft it felt – like rose petals. A woman, then. I allowed myself to relax, just a fraction.

She pulled something unfathomably warm around me. A blanket of some heavenly material. I huddled into it, too tired to resist.

Then a hot mug with a chipped handle was pushed into my hands. I cradled it gingerly.

She motioned to my mouth, but I hesitated.

No one could be trusted. Perhaps she had poisoned it, and wanted to rid the earth of my useless existence.

At least that’s what he would say.

As if privy to my thoughts, she took it herself and sipped it. A long, deliberately noisy sip that thawed my bones just from hearing it.

A tiny smile crept at the corner of my mouth and I accepted it from her hands, suddenly more parched than I’d ever remembered being. The warm, sweet liquid washed down my throat, and I greedily gulped down more. Notes of honey and cinnamon warmed my taste buds and my icy core.

When I’d drained it dry, I lowered the mug, my hand trembling, a fervent thank you on the edge of my tongue.

But she had disappeared.

I based that off the backstory of Wilder Becks, the hero in A Noble Princess. 😀 Poor cinnamon roll.

Okay, here are my prompts for YOU! (This is the part in which I dare you to write flash fiction – or poetry – of your own, even in the comments, if you want!)

my prompts

The table was groaning under the weight of our Thanksgiving feast, but all I could think of was the conversation that was doomed to take place during it.

This contains an image of: Pinterest

Fog that never lifts.

This may contain: a painting of two people and a child standing on rocks by the ocean

He held out his gloved hand, and I slowly laid my fingers against the black leather.

This may contain: a woman is running down the road with her hair blowing in the wind as she runs away

A worn, cloth-bound copy of Longfellow’s poems.

This may contain: two hands holding something in each other's hand with the caption you have everywhere to go

*all images, obviously, from Pinterest

I Tag…

(I used to think I was legally obligated to do a tag if someone nominated me, but…that’s not quite accurate. 😛 Just do this if you want to! 😉 )

This was very spur-of-the-moment (and I almost never write blog posts this late at night ahaha) but I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless!

Did you enjoy the story? Which prompt is your favorite? Have you ever tried writing prompts? How late do you stay up at night?

15 thoughts on “writing flash fiction and daring you to do the same (the “write a prompt” tag)”

  1. Oh, nice story, Saraina! I shall convert you to a late night writer from here on out…lol… I stay up till…*ahem* around 11 to 11:30 writing and then read for a while usually no later then midnight before hitting the hay. Gotta get up to help get dad off to work at 6:45 and be out the door with Ruger (dog) by no later than 7:15…lol…I’m probably sleep deprived.😂🤪

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    1. Thank you, Kayti!! 😀 LOL! 😂 I couldn’t go that late or I’d be dead the next day 😝 That is impressive. *salutes* Lol probably so! 😂 (At least, I know I am :P)

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  2. This is awesome! I love love flash fiction😍 The other day I sat down to write a report for school. It was hilarious- instead of writing the beginning of the report, my fingers mysteriously typed out a 299-word page of flash fiction. 😂 That’s the best type of writing for me haha, spur of the moment.

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    1. Thank you, Faith!! Samee!! Lol, that is hilarious 😂 Such a classic writer thing to do haha! 😛 Yes, spur-of-the-moment is always the best!

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  3. I loved this. I like the picture prompt of the girl running. No, I don’t write a lot of prompts. I hardly get time to write so when I do I don’t do other writing activities then my novel.
    Is it embarrassing to say I write till 12 most nights during summer? During the school year I go to bed at like 9:30. And during both I get up at like 6:00.
    @Kayti.
    You’re not alone in sleep deprivity… trust me. 😉 (Is that a word….?)

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    1. Thanks, Saraina and Emily for tagging me. (When y’all tagged ‘you’)

      Picture 3 on Saraina’s:

      Running. It’s all I do. But someday, things will change. I know that’s true, because, almost a decade ago, I didn’t run.

      When I was little, it was me, Mom, and Dad against the world. Then Dad died. Mom did what she could, I love her.

      But I know we could both do more. The state’s at my ankles to start school. And everyone that hires Mom gets a thief and once they figure that out they call the police.

      So we skip town. Every time I get used to life in a new place my mom says these words, “Lovebug. We aren’t welcome anymore. Someday we will be. But not today.”

      But now, that someday, is today. A week ago my mom got found out by the police, leaving me in foster care. I was scared at first, I thought of the foster parents in the movies I’d watch in hotel rooms. They were mean and scary.

      But I feel different as we drive up to the stucco house on the corner. By the toys littered across the yard and the potted plants in the windows, I know these people are special. When my social worker knocks on the door the woman that answers is special.

      She’s got greying curly hair. And she’s short and slightly chubby like me. She doesn’t look like a model, but to me, she’s the most beautiful woman in the world, because, for once, I have a home. And a family. And I know it’s gonna be good.

      (Gettin’ TAYA vibes right now…)

      Prompt 1: (Just know that your story for this does not have to be scientifically accurate)

      ‘After she gave up on her dreams, she couldn’t go back to sleep…’

      Prompt 2: ‘The letter arrived with a stamp from Cambodia.”You know what you did, and you will pay…” was scrawled on paper that looked like ancient parchment… addressed to Juliette Marzona 1883. It’s 1964 and no one has seen Juliette since the 1880s’

      Prompt 3: Story or poem or flash fiction inspired by the song ‘Gonna be Good’ by TAYA. (I actually don’t like this song even though it’s always stuck in my head, so I’m hoping a story, poem, flash fiction might make me tolerate it more)

      Prompt 4: ‘There’s no way I can like NAME. He’s NAME. The dork who has thrown up on me before. The goofball who my horse has kicked. My best friend. The person who’s been by my side since I was three. The one who has kissed my cheek a thousand times. Who has gone with me to every event since we were old enough to need a ‘date’. Yet, those thoughts can’t convince my heart to do anything.’

      (This is actually a part I wrote for my novel, but go ahead and use it cause I edited everything anyway)

      Prompt 5:

      I found this on Google.

      I tag…

      Raelyn Quinn

      Rue Arrow

      Lorelei Angelino

      Alannah Faith (Let’s run free)

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    2. Thank you, Ceryna!!! Yeah, when I get time to write, I’m working on whatever my current WIP is, usually not some other random thing 😂 WOW. That is very late. Ha, I guess I’m not alone in that! (It’s sleep deprivation, but, I mean…deprivity totally sounds like a word 🤣)

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