How it works

Who's got the time to journal daily? You do.

1. Read the daily writing prompt.
2. Push "Play" on the timer on the right side of the screen.
3. Spend 60 seconds or less writing a response to the daily prompt.

You may respond in the "Comments" section of each post, if your response is family-friendly. Or you can write in your own journal or blog. If you respond in a public blog post, post the link in the comments and share it with us. Also feel free to use the "Comments" section for informal discussion about the responses that are posted.

Today, take a minute to write!

Questions? Check out this link for The One-Minute Writer Q&A, including comment guidelines and copyright information.

Friday, January 6, 2012

Friday Fiction: Stone

Write a brief bit of fiction using the prompt "Stone."

Friday Fiction is your opportunity to write a short (short, short, short) story. Many participants use more than one minute for Friday Fiction prompts, and I don't generally take the length of the post into account when I name a Friday winner.

Click on the "Friday Fiction" tag beneath the post to see more examples of Friday Fiction writings.

If you respond to this prompt on your blog or website, be sure to visit the Weekly Mister Linky so others can easily click on your link!


Ron. said...

Face Rocks (semi-fiction)

She sees faces in the rocks and small stones she finds in the yard, faces staring back at her, smiling or reproachful, young or old. She hands them to me and sometimes I can see them too. The ones I can see I give names to, first and last, and hand them back to her to see if I got them right. I almost always get them right, or she says No, she looks more like a Pearl or a Maude to me. Then she'd put the smallest ones in her pocket, set the larger ones aside and, later, we'd carry them up to the steps, give them a nice shower from the garden hose, let them bask a while in the sun before bringing them inside to our box of facerocks.

Sometimes I wonder what ever happened to them after I moved away. I wonder if she tossed them back into the yard and garden before she moved to the mountains, or gave them away to the kids in the neighborhood, or if she just included the box one day with the other trash, dragged to the curb.

In my office today I have a large water cooler bottle filled with corks. None of them have names, though. I have a tea canister filled with Chinese fortunes, a small galvanized pail overflowing with red plastic coffee scoops, a display case for my hundreds of tin boxes, half a dozen terra cotta balls, a sizeable collection of rusty railroad spikes, and about half a million books, each with its own face behind it or within it.

I wish she could be here to see them.

June Calender said...

If I hadn't spent the last four days working on the short story for the contest, if it hadn't been such a beautiful, blue sky day I might have spent another day working on the story, if I hadn't felt stiff from sitting all that time, if I hadn't decided what the hell I'll just go out for a half hour walk, if I hadn't been too lazy to put on sneakers but instead slipped into my stretched out old moccasins, if I hadn't taken a short cut through the graveled parking lot to the path around the lake, if I hadn't stopped and stood on one leg while I shook the stone out of my shoe, I wouldn't have fallen and I wouldn't have broken my wrist and I wouldn't have gone to the emergency room and I wouldn't have met Dr. Marty Reesman and we wouldn't have met for a drink the next day and I wouldn't have eventually married him. I'm sorry I just let that stone fall on the path. I'd like to have it as a reminder of how a very small thing can make such a big difference in a life.

Amapola said...

Started with glaciers melting
Then came the fires in Torres del Paine
What will happen tomorrow?
These stones were covered
They are the new reality.

Gray stones
Glacier legacy
Abandoned building
Stone loneliness
Remains of better times

Barbara said...

I am walking along a lakeshore, looking for interesting stones. I come upon a large stone, small enough though to carry. The stone, largely grey heather like, has peeking out in spots, blues, different greys, tans and browns and lots of sparkles like mica. Hmmm, what am I going to do with the stone? Take it, for sure, but that is all that I can carry. Break it up here and see what is inside? What if breaking it up destroys the beauty of the stone? What do I have then?....

Gingerlily En Thélème said...

The hewn edges of limestone are sharp from Grandfather’s chisel. In his hands, this chunk of rock became a new thing, revealing its character. A different stone had smoothed into the curves of a naked girl. Polished, she once stood by the fireplace in the keeping room. The girl’s form was innocent and graceful, her eyes closed, hands clasped together in a prayer pose. Her lithe body undulates still, like a quiet sea, a mermaid with feet serenely poised in created bliss. The rough stone we kept is that of a hound’s head. Sharp angles define the beginning of a form that was coming to life in Grandpa’s hands. In media res, you can see the stone speaking to him, calling him to pull forth into being the dog’s snout and folded ears. It sits unfinished on the bricks in front of our house guarding us from all that intrudes on creativity.

wheatgerm said...

thw world is like a ball of fire ready to explode. If it does then we will all be watching . What will happen next nothing or something. Will it be too late to say good bye. Or will you have time to breath one last breath. Maybe everyone will move underground. said...

Grandfather Stone

Don’t bother with Blarney,
He’s too busy gabbing,
to give you anything.

If you want a silver tongue,
or some thoughts to ponder,
sit with us awhile.

We whisper our secrets,
and listen to yours.

We’ve been here since the
beginning, and we’ll be here
until the end.

Carrie said...

"Sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me"

Whomever thought of that falsetto opus was an ill mannered prissy.

More likely, one of those "Tiger mom's" Opus Dei as their manual for

emotionally abusing their families.

Names- personal nouns, such as birth certificate names, "Bill," "Susan" or "Anteria,"



I actually had a girl in my college Speech class with this name- and yes, it was in this century.

The following prefix & suffix merger/ inspiration was offered by the girl below:

Ant (mother saw ants line dancing in a public Laundromat, due to spilled sodas and chewed gum on the floor)This laundry mat was not owned by Heidi Fleiss. Not be confused with "Dirty Laundry," the laundromat owned by Fleiss.

Wash a Teria (cross between "Wash" & "Teria" or "Washateria"), a Southern term for Laundromat.

Mom merged the prefix/suffix together. I'd LOVE to see an HR person read this name on a resume!

In fact, let me log in Career Builder and change mine. If I get any responses, I'll post them on Facebook and Twitter.

Back to the sticks and stones opus.

Temporary malfunction-
I built homes for the unemployed with their "wonderful children" with all the sticks and stones- Take that, Trump!