Saturday, 6 October 2018

Snowflake's Challenge #1

Snowflake's Challenge will be a flash fiction, monthly writing prompt.  Around the 6th of the month, I will share a photo taken by myself.  Entries for the prompt will close at Midnight (UK time) on the last day of the month.  This is just for fun, to help get those creative juices flowing.

I created the logo above, so if you wish to use it to link back to this blog post, you may.  Though it is not necessary.

How it works:
  • Write a piece of flash fiction, inspired by the below photograph.
  • Min 100 words, Max 300 words.  
  • You can either link to the story on your own blog, or reply in the comments.
  • But most of all, have fun! :)
To get a clickable link, in the comments, you will need to use some html code.  Copy the following code: <a href=" (your link goes here and no spaces) "> (the name of your story goes here and no spaces) </a>  The link should be in between the quotation marks, no spaces at all. The name of your story after the > and before the </a> no spaces.

The photo prompt... since it's the month of Halloween, I thought I would use a spooky-ish pic.

I look forward to reading your entries :)  My entry is shared in the comments below.


  1. She left the door cracked, just a little bit. Just enough to let some light in, and so she could hear any sounds from the occupant of the cot inside.

    She sat in her rocking chair by the fireplace and slowly knitted tiny clothes, a cardigan taking shape as her needles clacked in the quiet.

    When the inevitable cry broke the silence, she set her knitting aside, moving quickly to pacify her fretful child, cuddling them close, crooning nonsensical phrases and swaying gently from side to side. And once the child was calm again, she lay them back down, covering them with a blanket, stroking their soft, downy head before leaving the room again.

    And the door cracked open.

    Just a little.

  2. She sat in the darkened room. It felt safer here. She didn’t want to go downstairs, but her stomach told her she had to. The screaming and the fighting had started early today. It was an every day event, in fact she considered it the sound of her childhood. At nine years old, Mandy was used to it even though she was still petrified by it.

    If she went downstairs now she wasn’t sure if she might get hit too, but she’d been sitting up here since she came home from school and her tummy growled so much it hurt.

    There was a cracking sound from below and then silence.

    Dread tightened round her stomach like an elastic band.

    She waited.

    She knew this was end for tonight, but what sort of end? A temporary one, or a hospital one? ... or even a final one? She swallowed down the rising nausea.

    She heard shuffling and then footsteps at the bottom of the stairs.

    There was a pause.

    Whose voice would it be? Mum’s or dad’s?

    176 Words

  3. “It’s a door.” Bear’s shoulders slumped, exasperated.
    “Would it kill you to provoke your imagination for once?” His rumbling voice was low though enthusiastic. The demon glanced at Bear in mild amusement. “Think for a second: could be anything beyond the threshold. Another world. Another realm, or here mirrored! There has to be something conjuring up in that skull of yours.”
    “Aside from a headache?” Arioch couldn’t help but laugh at Bear’s disparaging expression. He padded away, further into the darkness. Arioch observed, twisting his tail through his fingers. Even in the dark, he saw the moment shadows descended the guard’s cheerful features.
    “You’re wondering why we’re here, right?” It froze Bear in his tracks. He glanced at the door, light cascading through.
    “I’ve a pretty good idea. Guess just wishing I’m wrong.” Admitting it sent skitters of dread down his spine. He knew exactly why they were there, waiting.
    Grave experience nagged at Arioch to say something comforting. Fingers drummed along his jaw. Opening his mouth, he was cut off by the slightest flicker of light in the doorway. Barely noticeable. On the next, longer flicker, Bear caught on. He stumbled, attempting to hush his hulking frame, heart in his mouth. Arioch rose. Deftly fastening his onyx hair, he monitored the growing flickering.
    “We’ve one chance. Do exactly as I say, yes?” The demon murmured, eyes fixed on the light. Steeling himself, Bear nodded, steadying his breathing, drawing in surrounding energy. The periods of dark and light became even. Arioch slipped an iridescent ribbon from his pocket, coalescing as if caught in water. It swirled round, tendrils shooting up his arm, symbols humming along his skin. Light was scarce now, waves of unease surging through the doorway, wailing doom. Arioch tensed, tearing his eyes away.

  4. The linoleum was so worn out it failed to dampen the annoyance in Anna’s step. To the basement, the archive. That’s where she had to go! She’d not been there for ages, that’s what she had interns for.
    These days they all appeared scaredy cats though, telling about the whispers down there they couldn’t explain. They flat out refused to go there. Unthinkable to refuse in the time that Anna herself had been an intern.
    She shrugged. Kids these days…
    Decidedly she turned and found the door to the archive room open, the room beyond dark. Even closing doors was too much trouble these days? She stepped forward and automatically her hand sought out the light button on the wall beside her. She flicked it, but the light refused service.
    Sighing she shifted the papers in her arms and took out her phone. By the weak light of it, she found the correct cabinet.
    As she dumped the papers in the folder, she felt a wind behind her, and the door fell shut.
    “Anna.” An unearthly voice whispered.
    She turned on her heels and looked around the room. In the distance, something fell over with a loud thump.
    “You did always have a flair for the dramatic, didn’t you?” She said clearly audible. “Stop messing with my interns, you bastard. I silenced you once, I can do it again.”

  5. The door was open. It had been for the better part of the day. Damon knew the time was near as the sun’s rays moved out of sight beyond the door frame. Yet still he sat. Legs crossed, arms folded. Waiting.

    The shadows lengthened covering the open doorway in a blanket of darkness. Damon had sat on this bed and prayed for en eternity for this moment. An open doorway was an invitation to those that walked beyond sight and he refused to be passed over once more.

    There was a shift in the air, barely noticeable but Damon felt it. Uncrossing his arms & legs he stood.

    “I have waited for you. I am ready.”