Category: Story Challenges

Max, “Boots” LaRue has a scar running down his upper cheek till it’s buried in his bushy sideburn at the jaw line. He rides a Harley LowBoy. His mohawk haircut ends in a long pony tail, bound with a leather thong. His etched black cowboy boots have shiny silver toes and heels. His eyes are perennially at half mast. He prefers tattoos that are black—no fancy colors or

The older I get, the more I think I notice things out of the corner of my eye. Then I turn to look at what flickered or flashed, and nothing is moving. The longer I live, the more I enjoy people who are a bit skewed. I look for the people whose heads are at a tilt because the world doesn’t look quite right to them. I feel

Rosalinda stalked toward us, her thick soled boots announcing her intention to make her presence known.  My boss and I, on duty for the afternoon to midnight shift at the Residential Treatment Center for Adolescents, knew we were looking at trouble on the way. Like most of our residents, she wore clothes that announced that she had been finding things to wear without any adult help, probably for

Anger is a fascinating emotion and one we often find difficult and painful to deal with when it is aimed at us.  On the other hand, at certain moments our own anger feels justified and absolutely right. Let’s explore the emotion of anger by writing dialogue together.  I will write two lines to get this scene started.  Pitch in with up to two more lines of your own. 

Samantha had a disk problem that could not be fixed, so she had to learn to survive while in constant, unremitting, excruciating pain. Her department of twenty customer service phone reps lived in fear of her temper, since Samantha so no reason to tolerate excuses, whining, or lack of effort. Performance in her department suffered because of this rigidity, and she was fired. She decided to become a

I am a time traveler. My home time is 2014, where I am a 47-year-old single male named Harold. I am about to go back to when I was seven to find out why we suddenly lost the Cadillac, the home on Miami Beach, and Mom’s mink and then moved to a shack in mountains of western North Carolina.

Car jack Jack in the box Box top Top of the Empire State Building Building blocks Blocks? Nope. Never have those.  

Stewart sat at the head of his long gravel drive way with the car idling. He didn’t need to go home; he was a human being with free will, wasn’t he? He could take a right turn and leave the consequences behind. Or, he could turn all the way around and go back the way he’d come. If he went forward, he would have to face the music.

“Get out of my sight!” The door to the shed slammed in my face. I rubbed my hot right hand over my forehead and then my mouth. I had to decide my next move. And soon.

I work a forty-hour week on the assembly line in a factory that makes Weber barbeques. My life is….