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Monthly Short Story Contest
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2021 "July Carnivals" Short Story Contest
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I am confused. I clicked the link in the email that was suppose to be the July story chatroom and the link brought me here. Is this considered a chatroom? I guess I will send an email to myself because by the time someone answers this post, I will have forgotten what I was going to say in the chatroom. lol
OK, that was fast and I was in the middle of writing that email to myself. Now I can stop. Thanks for the speedy reply.
Sure, no problem. If it's urgent, send me an email or a text.
These stories are fun to read each month! I just read my old Carnival story from 2012! I hope you guys are collecting your stories each month so you can put them in an anthology. I think Paul posted his story on his blog.
I am just curious to know if any of you do what I do. Since I joined this group a few years ago, I think of story lines (unrelated to the monthly story), sometimes while driving or when I am in bed, at a restaurant, etc. When I get home I write down what I was thinking (if I didn't get sidetracked). They are never a full story; sometimes just a few lines. Weeks or months later I might write more. So, what I am getting at is..... sometime last year, I started a story titled Circus Child but never finished it. In fact, if I remember correctly, I had two versions (plots). I will use some of it for this months contest. I had to write a new version because of the insect, something lost, and the other thing. BTW, my story a few months ago about the dragon started the same way with about a paragraph written months before the contest. I have a folder on my desktop called STORY STARTERS. Comes in handy. Anyone else do this?
Yes. I save them to a folder called MY STORIES. However, in the past we were allowed only 1000 words so after the contest I went back and added more to the story. Thank you for mentioning that DO MORE SHOWING AND LESS TELLING. I get so wrapped in the plot and requirements that I forget to show.
Heather wrote: "These stories are fun to read each month! I just read my old Carnival story from 2012! I hope you guys are collecting your stories each month so you can put them in an anthology. I think Paul poste..."
Heather wrote: "These stories are fun to read each month! I just read my old Carnival story from 2012! I hope you guys are collecting your stories each month so you can put them in an anthology. I think Paul poste..."
You have a story-minded creative gift! Yes, I think of new story-starters quite frequently. For some reason, I get new story ideas when I’m riding a bike! LOL! I also get story ideas at night when I dream.
When I read my carnival story from 2012, I found a lot of “telling” when I could be “showing” in the story.
Thank you for that. I am not alone. wink
Heather wrote: "When I read my carnival story from 2012, I found a lot of “telling” when I could be “showing” in the story."
Heather wrote: "When I read my carnival story from 2012, I found a lot of “telling” when I could be “showing” in the story."
Riding a bike is a good time to clear the mind and think. I can't seem to get away from the PC, feeding/walking/running after...the dogs or feeding the ducks and deer, long enough to think. The first 5 years after I retired I had none of that. Except for the PC. It was glorious. Don't get me wrong, I love my two little 4 paws but when they are gone, there won't be anymore. (yeah, right.)
Heather wrote: "You have a story-minded creative gift! Yes, I think of new story-starters quite frequently. For some reason, I get new story ideas when I’m riding a bike! LOL! I also get story ideas at night when ..."
Heather wrote: "You have a story-minded creative gift! Yes, I think of new story-starters quite frequently. For some reason, I get new story ideas when I’m riding a bike! LOL! I also get story ideas at night when ..."
Good to see you posting. What's it been now..... 45 years since the bicentennial? God Bless America.
Thanks, Terry... and in another 956 years and we will celebrate the tricentennial in the year 2976. Thus, 1976, our bicentennial, was a pivotal period for this emerging nation--the Industrial Revolution had succeeded in the UK and here as well. From handmade to machine-produced products, sales increased as well as new inventions and more innovative ideas. The 20th century (1901-2000) saw the landing on the moon (1969) and so many other achievements. This is why I made the story about the bicentennial while still celebrating this 4th of July with GOD BLESS AMERICA, OUR UNIQUE USA.
Mod
By Glenda Reynolds (1,070 words)
When I unlocked the front door, I threw the keys on the hallway table. I was tired after a full day’s work. You may not think so, but working in a circus as a live puppet is very exhausting. It’s a good thing that I happened to have some money stuffed into my blue velvet bustier or I wouldn’t have been able to buy chicken nuggets on the way home. I misplaced my purse between here and the circus, and I was worried sick. I was about to remove my thigh-high black and white stockings when the phone rang.
“Gretta, sweetie!” greeted my boyfriend Edwin Wilder.
“Yes, honey?”
“Someone found your purse here at the circus. I’m working late. How ‘bout you come back in two hours, pick it up at the entrance, and we’ll have dinner together. What do you say?”
“Ok. I’ll try not to spoil my appetite.”
“Good. See you then.”
I ate as little of the chicken nuggets as I dared to. The rest I gave to my poodle Teddy to eat. He looks like a caramel-colored teddy bear with drooping ears and a longer tail. I put on a red, white, and blue bustier with a pair of denim shorts and high heels. Then I stopped at the hallway mirror to fluff my pink hair, and walked out to my car which happens to be a pink VW Beetle convertible.
After fighting quitting time traffic, I parked my Beetle near the entrance to Circus World. When I showed up at the window, I was greeted by a staff person.
“Hey, Gretta. I have a note for you. Don’t move.” He handed me a folded note which read Go see Hannah. She’ll take care of you.
“Where’s my purse that Edwin said would be here?”
“I don’t know anything about that. But I’m sure it will pop up somewhere.”
After getting past the entrance, I followed the path to my left. There I spotted Hannah the snake charmer standing outside of a tent. She had not one, but two long boa constrictors wrapped around her neck. Picture if you will the singer Cher dressed in a skimpy black lace outfit with hip to knee length fringes, and doing a slow dance with a snake's head in each hand. It gives me the willies.
“Hi-a, Gretta!” One of the snakes flicked its tongue in the air to taste my scent. My eyes bulged. “Here’s a note for you.” The note read Go see Gill and Garfield. Tell them I said ‘hello.’
“Thanks, Hannah!” I was too happy to leave her tent.
I walked a little ways in the same direction and came to Gill and Garfield’s tent. The welcome board outside said World Famous Two-Headed Man. The lights were still on. They were wrapping things up for the evening.
“Hi, guys. Do you have something for me?”
“Yes, of course. And I understand that congrats is – ouch!” yelled Gill as Garfield hit him in the back of the head. I was always curious which one of them was in control of their arms and legs. “Why did you go and do that for?” Garfield gave him a fierce facial expression to shut him up.
“It’s nice to see you, Ms. Gretta. Gill and I have some cleaning up to do before closing. Here’s a note from Edwin. Oh, and here is a bag of peanuts. You both have a good evening.”
I exited the tent and read the note in the dim light, Go feed the elephants. I rolled my eyes in frustration. I walked to the fenced grassy area where some elephants were kept. A big female approached me as I offered her some peanuts. She gladly took some with her trunk and then dumped them into her mouth. A young woman approached on the street with her white horse, reigns in hand as she walked by its side. She had a headband with a large feather plume and sequined short outfit. Her horse was equally bedazzling. They performed together doing horse tricks in another tent.
“Good to see you, Ms. Gretta.”
“Good to see you, Ms. Carla. Is this meeting by chance or are you on a mission?”
“Very intuitive of you! And they say blondes are dumb – even if your hair is pink!” They both shared a laugh. Carla took a tiny note from her waistband and handed it to Gretta.
Come to the Clown Around tent. I closed my eyes and regretted that I even came back to the circus grounds.
“Let’s get this over with,” I told myself.
I continued on the road and was greeted by the caped Tatoo Man, the Wolf Boy, and the World’s Smallest Lady. They each waved at me as they busily closed up their tents for the evening.
Finally, I arrived at the Clown Around tent in which the front entrance was the face of a creepy clown with an open mouth and jagged teeth. The light was still on inside. Although I was curious, I stepped cautiously inside. I heard the clicking of the large spinning wheel that had a female mannequin strapped to the center. A clown was throwing axes at it. Fake blood was smeared on the axes as well as the mannequin; a leg was missing for further effect. The clown turned to greet me with a wicked smile full of pointy teeth; he brandished a “bloodied” ax.
I think I just swallowed a gnat.
“Want some candy, little girl?” he said in his most sinister voice.
“Cut the crap, Edwin before I stick my high heel up your…”
“I’m sorry, Gretta,” apologized Edwin. He pulled the fake teeth out of his mouth. After dropping the ax on the floor, he stood in front of me regretfully, and he embraced me. His mouth covered mine in a warm kiss, proving what he meant. Then he dropped to one knee, pulled out a small velvet box, and opened it to reveal an engagement ring. Suddenly everything that preceded this vanished. It was just the clown and I in our own little world.
“And my purse?”
“It should be safely behind the driver’s seat on the floor of your car. Tatoo Man put it there after I heard you drove back.”
I smiled at him, enjoying the moment. I’m ready for this next chapter in our lives.
The show must go on!
Very creative, Glenda. I enjoyed the read with a smile at the end.
Mod
Thanks, Terry.
Mirta, that was one talented ladybug! Speaking of patriotism, did you see the viral video of people in a Texas Walmart who broke out singing the national anthem? https://youtu.be/Q-O5f-0-WOI
Glenda, I clicked on the link and saw the inspiring video. Afterward, the screen turned white. When it came back, I tried to watch the video again but the screen turned white.I deleted my story... I cannot stay in the game. Too many things in the works.
Hi, Everyone, To answer the question, why are we writing our stories . . . I am traditionally a non-fiction/memoir writer (my own and I ghostwrite for others). I have a novel idea (genre, not new—haha) in my head, but I don't have the confidence or knowledge to write fiction yet. So, I'm crafting these short stories to help me gain some creative skill and a level of comfort in the fiction world. Thanks for reading them. Appreciate the group!
Mod
To answer the question, why are we writing our stories . . . "
Hi, Cortney. I'm not sure if you are asking a question about why we write short stories since there is no question mark in your comment. Writing short stories does help a person improve their creative writing skills. This is true especially if you use as few words as possible, meaning that you delete unnecessary words and get to the meat of the story while providing conflict, plot, and world-building. I am pleased that members of Writers 750 have taken our short stories and have published them in anthologies ( as seen at the bottom of the home page https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/... ) Thanks to Heather Schuldt who started it all & continues to offer a great platform for us.
Mod
Amazon sends me emails about the products they think I am interested in. This afternoon they sent me an email that had writer's books on this subject matter of writing projects - scribbling notebooks. I'm listing some of the booklets here for you to look at:
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/197...
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/841...
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08...
I use the computer program Scrivener to organize my stories if they are parts of one project.
https://youtu.be/OX7HACzq7_I
You can also save web pages and pictures to these projects that you draw inspiration from. I suppose you could use scrivener to write thoughts on story ideas.
I use Libre Office which is free and so is Open Office.
Glenda wrote: "TERRY wrote: "Yes. I save them to a folder called MY STORIES. However, in the past we were allowed only 1000 words so after the contest I went back and added more to the story. Thank you for mentio..."
Glenda wrote: "TERRY wrote: "Yes. I save them to a folder called MY STORIES. However, in the past we were allowed only 1000 words so after the contest I went back and added more to the story. Thank you for mentio..."
THE HALL OF MIRRORS
by terry turner 1456 words
Five-year-old Rose tiptoed past the snoozing babysitter with her rag doll tucked tightly under her arm. She was determined to find her mother who was somewhere in the big top reading fortunes for those who came to see the circus shows.
When she found her mother's enclosure, she was frightened by what she heard and began to cry. A well-dressed woman was standing at the entrance shaking her fist and shouting, accusing her mother of being a charlatan, and stormed away in quite an emotional state. Those waiting for their reading were stunned and began to murmur and whisper among themselves.
Liddy, one of the female clowns, took the child's hand and led her to her mother's side who was sitting at a table behind a crystal ball with her hands covering her face.
"What happened," Liddy asked?
"Nothing really. This sort of thing happens sometimes when I foresee bad news. Most folks want me to lie and tell them how great and wonderful their future will be. They want to hear that they will meet a wonderful rich man, marry, and live happily ever after. It breaks my heart having to tell them the truth. Sometimes I think this gift of seeing the future is a curse.
Her mother's reading room, with walls made of heavy colorful fabrics, was tucked away in the back of the big top. Spangled around the doorway were images of crescent moons of various sizes and colors. The entrance was laden with strings of beads that clinked together sounding the arrival of another paying customer. The light in the room was kept low from the glow of many candles creating a mysterious mood. Though the space looked small when observed from the outside, it seemed surprisingly bigger once inside. A deception of course. A simple illusion created with fabric dividers and screens arranged in such a way that only her mother understood.
She sat behind a round, skirted table wearing a dark maroon hooded cloak with long painted fingernails; each one a different color. Placed before her in the center of the table was a large crystal ball. Under the glass ball was a hidden lamp which she could turn on and off at just the precise moment of her choosing. She didn't need those effects because she was quite capable of reading a client without any props. They were only for show because that is what people who came for a reading wanted and expected. Most came for the fun of it but some came because their hearts were troubled. Rose's mother knew the concerns of those who came. For some she put on a show, orchestrated in such a way that was sure to please, leaving the customers with the feeling that they had received their money's worth. For others, she was gentle, caring, and sincere.
Rose's father was one of the circus clowns. Everyone called him Cookie. There was no marriage, no rings exchanged, and no flowery ceremony in front of a minister because her mother knew a union with him would never last. She didn't need a crystal ball to know that. She was not the reigning fortuneteller for nothing. Before she could break the news to Cookie that he was the father of her baby, he had met a woman in a small Midwest town and stayed behind when the circus pulled up stakes. The only other person who knew Cookie was Rose's father was Jolly Judy, the circus fat lady.
At the age of seven, Rose became intrigued with a mysterious room in the big top called The Hall of Mirrors. Mysterious because it was built by a stranger who came to the circus one day when Rose was six years old. The newcomer arrived without fanfare, out of a heavy fog that had settled across the valley and rolling hills. He wore strange clothes and a hat adorned with two feathers from the tail of an eagle.
Shortly after his arrival, Ziggy, the juggler, got into a row with the stranger. No one knew what started it but that night Ziggy lost his voice. The stranger was suspected of having something to do with it but nothing could be proven.
The newcomer was a quiet man and short in stature who spoke with a heavy accent. Everyone kept their distance except for Rose who would sit at the dining table with him and his pet toad named Theo as the others watched from afar with apprehension. Rose took great pleasure in feeding the toad crickets and other insects.
The hall of mirrors, which he was hired to construct, was arranged like a labyrinth and included a secret passageway. A rumor began to circulate among the circus troupe that there was a treasure to be had for the person who was skilled enough to discover the secret passage.
One night after the stranger had finished building the maze, he left during a heavy fog without so much as a good-bye to anyone, taking the knowledge of the secret passageway with him. Whether he told Rose he was leaving, no one knows but she was sorely disappointed that he took the pet toad with him. And that very night, Ziggy got his voice back. Every one searched for the elusive passage but as time rolled by they all gave up except for Jolly Judy.
Snow blanketed the hilltops around the valley and as Winter approached Rose's mother came down with a malady and passed away suddenly. It is well known that circus people take care of their own and it was decided that Rose would be placed in Jolly Judy's care.
As the dreary days of Winter crept by, life around the circus began to return to normal after the passing of their beloved fortuneteller except for Rose who missed her mother deeply.
Late one evening, Zelda, the newly hired medium, had been drinking heavily and yelling at her crystal ball. She became angry with Rose and grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and threw her into the hall of mirrors, locking the door behind her. Rose bumped her head on the hard surface of the floor and blacked out for a few seconds.
When her eyes opened she was afraid and began to cry. As she looked around, she realized she was not alone for in the mirrors she saw hundreds of reflections of herself reaching out and crying in unison. Then she heard her mother saying, "follow the sound of my voice, Rose."
Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Rose followed her mother's voice down a hallway that seemed to go on forever. The light around her became faint and the mirrors began to crackle and change color presenting slightly dull grey reflections of herself.
At the end of the long hallway, she came to an ornate door of great beauty. She heard her mother's gentle voice encouraging her to turn the key and open the door. When the door opened, she was surprised at what she saw.
"You are not my mother," Rose said with disappointment.
"I know, Rose. I am sorry but I was afraid you would not come. So I used your mother's voice," the labyrinth builder said. "Please, come and sit with me."
Rose smiled when she saw the toad sitting on the table watching her.
"Theo. I thought I would never see you again."
The toad opened its mouth with a high-pitched trill as Rose sat with the builder sitting on the other side of the table.
"Rose, since your mother is gone and you have no relatives to live with, you are welcome to stay here with us. You will be well cared for and Theo would be delighted to have your company."
After much thought, Rose didn't want to stay and decided to go back to Jolly Judy and the life of the circus which she loved. She said her goodbyes, turned, and walked to the door. When her hand touched the door handle there was a flash of bright light.
The next thing she knew, she was on the floor in the hall of mirrors with a throbbing head wondering if what she just experienced was real or just a dream.
"Are you alright," Jolly Judy asked, walking toward her? "I have been looking all over for you. There is a bump on your forehead. Come with me and I will put a cold compress on that."
As Rose stood she looked for the long hallway which she had walked down following her mother's voice but it wasn't there.
"What is it, Rosy," Judy asked.
"It’s nothing," she answered taking Judy's hand. "Can we get something to eat? I am so hungry."
by terry turner 1456 words
Five-year-old Rose tiptoed past the snoozing babysitter with her rag doll tucked tightly under her arm. She was determined to find her mother who was somewhere in the big top reading fortunes for those who came to see the circus shows.
When she found her mother's enclosure, she was frightened by what she heard and began to cry. A well-dressed woman was standing at the entrance shaking her fist and shouting, accusing her mother of being a charlatan, and stormed away in quite an emotional state. Those waiting for their reading were stunned and began to murmur and whisper among themselves.
Liddy, one of the female clowns, took the child's hand and led her to her mother's side who was sitting at a table behind a crystal ball with her hands covering her face.
"What happened," Liddy asked?
"Nothing really. This sort of thing happens sometimes when I foresee bad news. Most folks want me to lie and tell them how great and wonderful their future will be. They want to hear that they will meet a wonderful rich man, marry, and live happily ever after. It breaks my heart having to tell them the truth. Sometimes I think this gift of seeing the future is a curse.
Her mother's reading room, with walls made of heavy colorful fabrics, was tucked away in the back of the big top. Spangled around the doorway were images of crescent moons of various sizes and colors. The entrance was laden with strings of beads that clinked together sounding the arrival of another paying customer. The light in the room was kept low from the glow of many candles creating a mysterious mood. Though the space looked small when observed from the outside, it seemed surprisingly bigger once inside. A deception of course. A simple illusion created with fabric dividers and screens arranged in such a way that only her mother understood.
She sat behind a round, skirted table wearing a dark maroon hooded cloak with long painted fingernails; each one a different color. Placed before her in the center of the table was a large crystal ball. Under the glass ball was a hidden lamp which she could turn on and off at just the precise moment of her choosing. She didn't need those effects because she was quite capable of reading a client without any props. They were only for show because that is what people who came for a reading wanted and expected. Most came for the fun of it but some came because their hearts were troubled. Rose's mother knew the concerns of those who came. For some she put on a show, orchestrated in such a way that was sure to please, leaving the customers with the feeling that they had received their money's worth. For others, she was gentle, caring, and sincere.
Rose's father was one of the circus clowns. Everyone called him Cookie. There was no marriage, no rings exchanged, and no flowery ceremony in front of a minister because her mother knew a union with him would never last. She didn't need a crystal ball to know that. She was not the reigning fortuneteller for nothing. Before she could break the news to Cookie that he was the father of her baby, he had met a woman in a small Midwest town and stayed behind when the circus pulled up stakes. The only other person who knew Cookie was Rose's father was Jolly Judy, the circus fat lady.
At the age of seven, Rose became intrigued with a mysterious room in the big top called The Hall of Mirrors. Mysterious because it was built by a stranger who came to the circus one day when Rose was six years old. The newcomer arrived without fanfare, out of a heavy fog that had settled across the valley and rolling hills. He wore strange clothes and a hat adorned with two feathers from the tail of an eagle.
Shortly after his arrival, Ziggy, the juggler, got into a row with the stranger. No one knew what started it but that night Ziggy lost his voice. The stranger was suspected of having something to do with it but nothing could be proven.
The newcomer was a quiet man and short in stature who spoke with a heavy accent. Everyone kept their distance except for Rose who would sit at the dining table with him and his pet toad named Theo as the others watched from afar with apprehension. Rose took great pleasure in feeding the toad crickets and other insects.
The hall of mirrors, which he was hired to construct, was arranged like a labyrinth and included a secret passageway. A rumor began to circulate among the circus troupe that there was a treasure to be had for the person who was skilled enough to discover the secret passage.
One night after the stranger had finished building the maze, he left during a heavy fog without so much as a good-bye to anyone, taking the knowledge of the secret passageway with him. Whether he told Rose he was leaving, no one knows but she was sorely disappointed that he took the pet toad with him. And that very night, Ziggy got his voice back. Every one searched for the elusive passage but as time rolled by they all gave up except for Jolly Judy.
Snow blanketed the hilltops around the valley and as Winter approached Rose's mother came down with a malady and passed away suddenly. It is well known that circus people take care of their own and it was decided that Rose would be placed in Jolly Judy's care.
As the dreary days of Winter crept by, life around the circus began to return to normal after the passing of their beloved fortuneteller except for Rose who missed her mother deeply.
Late one evening, Zelda, the newly hired medium, had been drinking heavily and yelling at her crystal ball. She became angry with Rose and grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and threw her into the hall of mirrors, locking the door behind her. Rose bumped her head on the hard surface of the floor and blacked out for a few seconds.
When her eyes opened she was afraid and began to cry. As she looked around, she realized she was not alone for in the mirrors she saw hundreds of reflections of herself reaching out and crying in unison. Then she heard her mother saying, "follow the sound of my voice, Rose."
Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Rose followed her mother's voice down a hallway that seemed to go on forever. The light around her became faint and the mirrors began to crackle and change color presenting slightly dull grey reflections of herself.
At the end of the long hallway, she came to an ornate door of great beauty. She heard her mother's gentle voice encouraging her to turn the key and open the door. When the door opened, she was surprised at what she saw.
"You are not my mother," Rose said with disappointment.
"I know, Rose. I am sorry but I was afraid you would not come. So I used your mother's voice," the labyrinth builder said. "Please, come and sit with me."
Rose smiled when she saw the toad sitting on the table watching her.
"Theo. I thought I would never see you again."
The toad opened its mouth with a high-pitched trill as Rose sat with the builder sitting on the other side of the table.
"Rose, since your mother is gone and you have no relatives to live with, you are welcome to stay here with us. You will be well cared for and Theo would be delighted to have your company."
After much thought, Rose didn't want to stay and decided to go back to Jolly Judy and the life of the circus which she loved. She said her goodbyes, turned, and walked to the door. When her hand touched the door handle there was a flash of bright light.
The next thing she knew, she was on the floor in the hall of mirrors with a throbbing head wondering if what she just experienced was real or just a dream.
"Are you alright," Jolly Judy asked, walking toward her? "I have been looking all over for you. There is a bump on your forehead. Come with me and I will put a cold compress on that."
As Rose stood she looked for the long hallway which she had walked down following her mother's voice but it wasn't there.
"What is it, Rosy," Judy asked.
"It’s nothing," she answered taking Judy's hand. "Can we get something to eat? I am so hungry."
Carnival Invasion by F. F. Burwick 1273 wordsRoland was on that outing among a several young people out to see a carnival festivity in their town. There were a few rides they found to go on, and were a few funhouse setups there for exploring. The last one they came to was looking so alien with a front covered with strange curved lines leaving mysterious openings in places. Three among the young people went in, and found it surprisingly long, with reflective walls as mirrors in places that lent to confusion of any going through it. Roland came at the end after Pattie and Sheila in there. They came to a slide that should be the exit from that funhouse. But there was an anomaly that became noticeable when Sheila went through it, and she was gone. Roland and Pattie saw this as Sheila went through the anomaly along the slide. Roland called out in alarm.
Confused, after they were calling out some more, with no indication anyone heard them, Roland turned to go back through the funhouse to where he had entered it, as Pattie called for Sheila there where she had gone. Someone was coming up that way they had come. Roland called out, "Go back! There is something there at the way out that has made someone in front of us disappear, and they are gone!" He saw then the figure coming to him looked like a huge dressed up insect.
That figure, with moving appendages above walked erect with two strong legs below. The figure looking like an insect said to Roland, "I know about that. This accomplishes what was meant."
Roland said, "What do you mean?! What happened to Sheila?"
The one appearing as an insect said, "Your friend went to the realm of our young. They will follow the path she left sliding into their realm, and they will come out this way."
Roland said, "This is no funhouse! What is this, a trap?! You go out this other way, I will find authorities to do something about this."
The one who appeared to be an insect, which Roland started thinking more was an insect, a quite alien one, held up an object, saying then, "We shall wait here and see if our young find their way up here soon."
Roland saw the object held must be some sort of weapon, a long pointy thing with a small hole at the end. He made a quick decision that he knew was a risk, and he tackled the other. That one like an insect fell back and though that one seemed to try shooting with it, the object flew out from where it was gripped. Roland got up and saw the insect being on his back unable to get right up. He found what would have been the weapon laying some distance away, and he picked it up very carefully. He then came back to the insect being, and he grabbed one leg of the two the insect being had walked on, and Roland pulled it. The creature was light, he found, much lighter than human people were. The insect being just slid on his back with Roland pulling the creature's leg, and Roland pulled him back to the entrance.
Roland's friends were in front when he came to the entrance. He called out to them, "There is no exit from this, it was a trap! Sheila disappeared on a slide, this is an alien who said she is being used so more will come! We need to get authorities here and see if Sheila can be rescued!" His friends stared in surprise as he pulled the alien body behind him, coming out from that entrance.
As soon as they could find them officers came quickly to the apparent attraction. One officer said, "This is not a funhouse on the list! Why is it here?"
Roland said, "See this huge insect? It is some alien that spoke and told me more of its kind, its young, would come through the hole our friend Sheila disappeared through. We want to rescue her, and keep those creatures from coming through!"
While one officer stayed outside watching over the great insect along with Roland's friends out there, other officers followed Roland and Pattie through that apparent funhouse that was not supposed to be there to the slide that seemed to be for the exit.
One officer said to another there, "Go to the station, there should be coils of rope, bring a couple of those back here."
Roland asked urgently, "What is there that you see through that? Is our friend there?"
"I saw moving objects all around, and one face in the distance that must be that of your friend."
Minutes went by as Roland and Pattie fretted. Finally officers came, and a rope that was brought was uncoiled. That first officers made a careful and effective loop, and let that end down the slide through the weird hole with distortion of space around it. More and more rope was passed through, for a long while. Finally there was a responsive tug. The officers lined up to pull the rope together. They slowly backed up with it. Roland and Pattie went in front of the officers and joined in pulling the rope from the hole along the slide. After backing up, Pattie let go and grabbed the rope closer to the slide, and pulled more. Roland let go and went there to join Pattie and to also pull from there.
"Did you see here down there?"
"Yes, I see her. She is still deep in there. And there are other little creatures, also coming where she is!"
Roland cried, "Pull harder! Get her out fast!"
He pulled as hard as he could, and Pattie did too. The officers first up there had backed out of that deceptive funhouse structure, and more officers came in, to join in pulling. Finally Sheila appeared coming up the slide as she had the loop of the rope under her arms and she was pulling herself up more with the rope. And small creatures like leggy worms were coming up there too.
Roland and Pattie came and hurriedly pulled her up from the slide when she got there. They kicked at the leggie larval creatures to send them sliding back, but there were many of those. Officers who had pulled on the rope came up through the passages to where they were, and they saw the creatures.
One officer said, "You have to go on out from here now that we rescued this one. We will try getting rid of these creatures, and very shortly we will destroy this funhouse, with explosives, and hopefully that destroys that opening that they come through."
Later, that evening, when Roland and his friends saw the whole area there had been evacuated, that structure was exploded as planned. Soon afterward that area was carefully inspected. An official came to Roland and his friends, who had stayed to watch, from an appropriate distance. That official said, "I am Major Richton, from the Department of Investigative Defense. You were pointed out to me, that I know you went through that structure. We gained a lot of information from the captured creature, more than we already know about them, the warriorbugs. There have been previous attempts of invasion from them. This was the first one captured alive that we could communicate with. We would reward you and honor you in a ceremony for successfully capturing that creature for us, and stopping this invasion that really could have been successful, if you had not been here or responded so well."
Please send me your three story selections!I added a new place where you can vote right on the contest page. Let me know if that works for you.
Thank you!
https://writers750program.com/writers...
Mod
I'll be posting the winning story title and awards pretty soon!
Awards and winning story from July Carnivals:Carnival Invasion by F. F. Burwick
Best Alien
We can always count on you for a sci-fi alien!
The Hall of Mirrors by Terry Turner
Best Circus Drama
My heart went out to Rosy!
Such a Grand, Colorful Reckoning by Travis Jackson
Best Lesson to Forgive Self
Nice ending, Travis! I wondered how all that was going to end.
Fondest Wish by Paul Ahnert
Best Tragedy of Idols
Watch out what you wish for, especially if it’s an idol!
LOL Caesar by Arthur Chappell
Best Surprise Villain
Creative use of texting in the future! Nice surprise ending, too.
The Clown with the Ax by Glenda Reynolds
Best Protagonist
I enjoyed following your protagonist around. Nice ending!
Shimmer, Shine, and Scream by Cortney Donelson
Best Cliffhanger
Great job building suspense!
A Blessed 1976 Bicentennial Parade by Mirta Oliva
Best Contrast - in How People Use Free Will
Good job showing us it’s important to use our freedom for good!
The winning story from July Carnivals is
Fondest Wish by Paul Ahnert - Congratulations!
Hope to see you all again in August Masks! Here is a link.
https://writers750program.com/august-...
Congratulations, Paul. Next month's stories should be interesting.
Mod
Great job, Paul!! Catch everyone on the flip side of August! Happy writing.
I loved reading all the carnival stories! Thank you to everyone who posted a story.
Thanks to everyone's gracious comments and encouragement. These contests have really renewed my love for writing and getting to be part of such a creative group is pretty awesome too. Looking forward to reading what everyone has in store for next month!
I saw Phantom in CA a long time ago before I got married. It was a date, and my date played the album in his car. I loved the show! It’s so dramatic. Some ppl favor a certain singer. It can really make a difference. Looks like the novel is in the public domain. Interesting!
You can download the Phantom novel for free. I just loaded it on Kindle. https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/175
Christine is a symbolic Christian character who, in the movie’s emotional climax, shows compassion, sympathy and kindness to the twisted Phantom. It is her willingness to sacrifice herself that ultimately gets the Phantom to relent from his final deadly plan. Figuratively speaking, the Grace, or undeserved love, she shows saves the Phantom from the evil within him. In effect, she ends the dark music in the Phantom’s soul, as the lyrics suggest.
Mod
Heather wrote: "Christine is a symbolic Christian character who, in the movie’s emotional climax, shows compassion, sympathy and kindness to the twisted Phantom. It is her willingness to sacrifice herself that ult..."
TERRY wrote: "Congratulations, Paul. Next month's stories should be interesting."Thank you!
TOPIC: Carnivals
THEME: Curiosity
SETTING: At a carnival, street parade, circus, or a festival, your character finds a curious passageway and loses something. You decide what he or she loses. You decide what happens.
3 HIGHLIGHTS: (Include these) A curious passageway, something lost, and an insect
SUBMIT your story at Writers750Program.com
Post your story where it says “Leave your story of 750-1,500 words”
https://writers750program.com/writers...
DEADLINE: July 25, 2021
WORD COUNT: 750-1,500
VOTING: Send the contest host or hostess your votes anytime between July 26-July 31. Please vote for first, second, and third place. You are not allowed to vote for yourself.
AWARDS: All the stories will receive a special award on August 1, 2021.
WINNING STORY: First place winning story will be announced on August 1, 2021.
OPTIONAL CONFLICTS:
1. Your character is feeling worthless, dead, and lost. Attending the carnival to find some fun, your character witnesses three people who are worse off. At the end, you decide how he begins to feel better such as through an act of kindness, discovering gratitude, or finding intrinsic worth.
2. Your character has a phobia. You decide if it is a phobia of clowns, witches, fireworks, or lions, etc. He or she goes to the carnival to face his or her fear. You decide if he or she loses his or her fear.
3. Your character becomes curious about something at a carnival such as a revolving bookcase or a secret passageway. After exploring, he or she realizes s/he lost something. You decide if s/he lost his or her memory, age, gender, body, or color of his or her skin. You decide how h/she gets it back.
More conflicts are available on pages 86-87 from “Writers 750 Emerald Workbook” by H.M. Schuldt.
I look forward to reading your story!
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CONTEST GUIDELINES – Skip over this comment section if you are familiar with the Writers 750 Contest.
GENRE: Fantasy, Thriller, Sci-Fi, Mystery, Crime, Comedy, Romance, or a mixture (almost anything but erotica)
PURPOSE -
Most writers simply want to exercise the skill of writing fiction. Seasoned writers commonly juggle several writing projects at the same time. It helps tremendously to take a break from a long manuscript, write a short story, clean your pallet, and return to your main manuscript with a fresh perspective. The main purpose of this contest is to simply write a new short story. Please do not give any spoilers if you leave a comment in the group chat room. Please keep all public and private interactions positive.
RULES & DIRECTIONS -
Type in English - a minimum of 750 words; a maximum of 1,500 words.
Post your title and word count total in the first line of your story posting.
FEEDBACK AND CRITIQUES: During the first week of the month, you can exchange critiques privately with other writers. This is optional. It is not required. You’ll need to initiate it on your own. In addition, you may also leave helpful feedback or reviews in the group chat room after the awards have been announced. (We used to organize critique groups in the past when the group had twenty to thirty stories each month.)
Writers are responsible for their own copyright. Authors keep all rights. PRIVACY POLICY IS ENFORCED. COPYRIGHTS AND INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY RIGHTS BELONG TO INDIVIDUAL AUTHORS. THIS CONTEST DOES NOT GRANT ANY PERSON THE RIGHT OR LICENSE TO COPY OR USE OTHER STORIES. EACH STORY IS PROTECTED BY THE COPYRIGHT OF THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR.
ONE entry per person, must be the writer's original work, a final revision, and a new piece of writing. Please do not delete and re-post since this becomes confusing to the readers. Try to post your final revision. Use the edit button in Goodreads if you need to – only for minor edits – no major edits.
JUDGING: Each writer will vote on overall good quality for the story.