#AtoZChallenge D is for Doors #flashfiction Drabble

The team's theme of the April Blogging from A to Z Challenge this year is:
ACCOMPLISHING YOUR DREAMS, AND THE DUALITY OF 22

The WEP team has accepted the challenge to write for the A – Z. This time we’re playing tag with the letter “D”. We’ve decided D is for Door/s. As we’re lovers of #flashfiction, we’re writing in the form of “Drabble” = flash fiction of exactly 100 words. (Yolanda Renee is on hiatus).

 

Behind the Door

 

I’ll be lighthearted some time and peer in -

behind the door will be the ball you forgot,

neat hooks to hang things, walls that look too clean -

except a backpack-shaped amorphous spot

where that hung for years. A square rim of grime

will mark out a photoframe and passing time.

 

I’ll be lighthearted someday again between

your coming and going, growing, nothing caught

on the wardrobe shutters, bedclothes pristine.

Just some odd scraps of poems I once wrote

for some vanished milestone, in half-slant rhyme

will claw at my days and at passing time.

 

Nilanjana is a bi-lingual writer, blogger and market researcher. She specialises in poetry, panic and tinkering with bucket lists. Her physical address keeps changing now and then but thankfully her online home is constant at Madly-in-Verse.

 

They Told Her

She sat in front of the hedge where everyone told her there wasn’t a door. It didn’t lead to anywhere other than the neighbour’s yard. And Mr. and Mrs. Harrison wouldn’t appreciate either a hole in their hedge or a girl’s footprints on their perfect grass.

They told her the hedge was made only of leaves and branches. They told her there wasn’t a land full of wonder and magic beyond. They rolled their eyes and laughed. There definitely wasn’t a door in the hedge.

She pushed to her feet and opened the door anyway.

Jemi Fraser writes small-town romantic suspense stories filled with heart and humour.

Behind the Basement Door

 

Mine is inspired by this photo. https://pixabay.com/photos/fantasy-storm-surreal-door-2880028/

It's also inspired by real life tornados that went through my state recently.

 

 

Huddled under the table, Mable cuddled into her mama’s side. The basement door rattled 

on its hinges. The wind howled.

 

Mama stroked her hair. “It’ll be okay, baby girl. The storm will pass soon.”

 

Mable knew what a tornado was. She’d seen pictures of them and the damage they could do. 

She never dreamed she would have to hide from one.

 

She covered her ears as the roar outside grew louder. She couldn’t block it out no 

matter how hard she tried.

 

The storm would pass soon, she hoped, but what would await them when 

they opened that basement door?

 

L.G. Keltner writes many things, though primarily sci-fi, while also caring for 

her energetic children. She lives in a small town in Iowa.

Romi Ran

Romi ran. If the enemies caught her, they would shoot her. Their boots trampled behind the corner, loud in the silence of the night. The houses stood dark, afraid. She didn’t dare knock on doors. Nobody would let her in, not against the occupants’ orders. Suddenly, stairs to a basement yawned in a narrow lane between two houses. At the bottom of the short staircase, choked with garbage, a half-door was ajar. Romi stumbled down and crawled in. She pushed the door shut, leaned on it. The enemies’ boots slapped past, their barrage receding. Safe for now. She started shaking.

Olga Godim is a speculative fiction writer from Vancouver, Canada. 

When she doesn’t write, she reads and makes book covers.

Vampire Hunter

The crumbling bricks of the castle behind me, I happen upon a twisting stone path below street level. I follow its twists and turns, sheltered by branches above which shake and whisper in the evening breeze. I imagine they warn: beware. The moon gives enough light for me to see. Around the curve, a door appears.  I stop. Look. See no one. See no thing. Where does this door lead? The hairs on my arms raise. To the subterranean tunnels beneath the surface where the vampires live? I feel the heft of steel in my hand. I push open the door.

Denise Covey is an Australian author of contemporary and paranormal romance. When she’s not dreaming up stories based on her travels, she loses herself in the pages of books.

Do you ever write flash fiction?

bloglovin.com/blogs/blogging-from-a-to-z-april-challenge-3294742
@a.to.z.challenge @atozchallenge
@AprilA2Z Our hashtag is #AtoZChallenge
Please follow us on social media.

Sign up for the 2022 challenge? Click this:
https://forms.gle/pN8xCbvnxGLScj4V8

File, Make a Copy of the Master List for yourself! Click this:
https://tinyurl.com/AtoZ22
Be sure your copy is updated with everyone who signed up for the challenge. Hopping to other blogs to leave comments is half of the challenge!

Get your 2022 merchandise here: 
https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/103818836

G is for Genre #AtoZchallenge

G IS FOR "GENRE"

J Lenni Dorner offered WEP (Write…Edit…Publish) “G” day. The WEP team currently consists of four writers – Denise Covey, Yolanda Renée, Olga Godim and Nilanjana Bose  - who all write in different genres. Every second month the team dreams up a challenge where participants can post in any genre. For today’s collaboration, we chose "GENRE" to write 100-word flashes. For inspiration we used an image of an amazing road sign. Thanks Celia Reaves for permission to use the image.

Here we go...

Olga Godim - Fantasy.

Somewhere in Magic

She glanced in the rearview mirror, expecting the Ford chasing them to appear any second.

“Turn at the sign and stop,” he said calmly, as if the goons in the Ford hadn’t tried to kill him minutes ago.

The sign read “WELCOME TO WEE SHOMER.”

She turned and stopped ten meters in.

He leaped out of the car and put both hands on the sign. The letters on the bottom blurred and re-arranged themselves. The sign now read “WELCOME TO SOMEWHERE.” The road turn disappeared. Only grass grew beneath the sign.

The Ford whizzed past without slowing.

“They didn’t see us.” He grinned. “They are going... somewhere.” 

Olga Godim is a Canadian speculative fiction writer. When she doesn't write fiction, she works as a journalist, designs book covers, and collects toy monkeys. There are over 300 monkeys in her collection.

Nilanjana Bose - Poetry

Homeless in Somewhere

This was home. How strange! the doorknob - I think

as I turn it, still bears your fingerprints,

the steel’s just the same, the roses as pink,

and your yoga mat hasn’t moved an inch;

the curtain’s billowing just as before

your prized ceramics, not one has broken -

whole row’s standing; the rug rucked on the floor

where your foot had pushed it; your  book open

face down on the sofa, dog eared pages

squashed by cushions. Always this careless view

of the physical – those are just cages

for the words. This was home. Now - just a roof.

  

Just a pile of lifeless concrete and wood -

an empty cage, because you’re gone for good.

Nilanjana is a bi-lingual writer, blogger and market researcher. She specialises particularly in poetry, panic and tinkering with bucket lists. Find her online at Madly-in-Verse.

 Yolanda Renée - Horror.

A Concert in Somewhere

She’s wondering, “How did I get turned around? Where are my friends?”

She was with a crowd, and yet I saw her boredom, her desire for genuine excitement.

I had to grant her wish.

The exiting concert horde pushed her closer.

She’s spotted me again and knows I want her. She understands the game we’re playing.

The fear in her eyes, so delicious. And now tears as she realizes her phone has been pinched.

Does she think I’ve stolen it?

Panic, sheer panic. She’s running, down the alley. Right into my waiting arms.

***

CONCERT KILLER STRIKES AGAIN

***

Yolanda Renée, the author of the Detective Quaid Mysteries, writes in multiple genres and loves flash fiction.  Learn more at www.yolandarenee.com or at Defending the Pen.

Denise Covey - Romance.

Death for Someone, Somewhere

The hazy moon hovered in the inky sky, watching the shenanigans below. Two lovers ran hand in hand, weaving through trees and undergrowth in the perfect silence of night. Finally, they reached the soft grasses near the sign.

Someone pulled over, opened the trunk, and slung a body and shovel over his shoulder.

The lovers shadowed him as he staggered to the stack of decomposing trees.

Dig. Dig. Dig.

‘What game’re you playing, Mister?’

Someone dropped the shovel and ran. Right into their waiting arms.

He was no match for two hungry vampires who fed on murderers.

‘Ladies first.’

‘Don’t mind if I do.’

Denise Covey is an Australian writer of novels, flash fiction and short stories with romantic elements. She reads a lot, travels a lot and writes travel articles in her spare time. Her role as an educator allows her to indulge her love of the classics.

  

If you'd like to check out WEP's next challenge, we're already accepting submissions. Go to the website, read all about it, and sign up! Write in any GENRE. We'd love to have you!

If you wish to include a direct link to your blog post of this day's letter, please click: 
https://goo.gl/PTLQXu
LINK TO DAILY LETTER FORM

This form will close in 48 hours.

The A to Z team recommends TimeAndDate or WorldTimeBuddy for your time zone calculation needs.
We post at Midnight GMT.
Coordinated Universal Time (UTC) is the standard by which all time zones are based. Greenwich Mean Time (GMT) is the time zone used for UTC. That's why we use it.


If you wish to visit other blogs in this bloghop challenge who have incorporated today's letter into their current post, please click: 
https://goo.gl/gUhYwn
LINK TO DAILY LETTER SPREADSHEET  
(If you intend to make a copy of the spreadsheet, we suggest waiting until the form closes.)


https://goo.gl/9f9mfR
Click for the MASTER LIST of all participants who signed up for the #AtoZchallenge 2018!