Week #15 Fox Tales : Announcing the next story image, winners, and another chance to win extra STEEM!
If you love writing stories then this contest is for you! Write a one paragraph story about the image pictured above. Be creative, think outside of the box, and follow the contest rules!
Here are the winner’s from Fox Tales Week #14. There were so many incredible stories which made it difficult for me to choose. I also want to applaud the writers who were able to incorporate an ‘infinite loop’ into their stories, well done!
1st place // @dreambridge “The Gray Directory”
…Three. Two. One. This is the gray directory, came the voice. There is no parent directory. This is the directory from which all other directories derive. This is the gray directory. Initiate base level sequence. A rapid succession of abrupt, high pitched tones became audible. Sequence complete, said the voice. It was a soft, but firm voice. A woman’s voice. A familiar voice. Familiar to whom? asked the voice. Familiar to all, it replied. This is the gray directory. Where all things begin and end. Where possibilities can be remade. There was a pause. Then let it begin. The woman’s voice was not disembodied. Her form emerged from a fine mist that became a liquid expanse in which she was floating. She reached out a slender hand, and held it before her face, turning it back and forth in the space before her eyes. Incredible, she whispered. Turning her head, she noticed a circle of white stone whose polished surface emerged just inches above the waterline. She pulled herself up onto the stone, realizing that it was a circular column that extended downward, far into the water’s depths. On solid ground, she stretched out her hand, and with her middle finger touched the liquid pool that spread out as far as she could see. She watched the ripples moving away from her fingertip, the surface of the liquid bending her reflected image. In the ripples, there were dark shapes that became shadows that became, like images projected onto a screen, hillsides bursting with wildflowers. I want to stay here forever. But the hillsides melted into city blocks of gray high rises. Secondary directory detected, came the voice. It was a familiar voice, but it was not her voice. Or at least she did not remember uttering those words. The buildings became jagged rows of shattered concrete pierced by twisted rebar. Words spray painted on one cracked wall read, “We cannot eat. We are eaten by the storms.” There was smoke everywhere, and fires. There were water logged bodies rotting on the ground. How many? She saw a woman stoop over one of the bodies to examine it. Then came the explosion. The woman was thrown, and her face became suddenly familiar. It was her own. Two men jumped from the side of a gleaming, oblong shaped flying craft as it touched down. They rolled her onto a stretcher and loaded her onto the craft. One of the men man looked at her with sadness in his eyes. “Can we save her?” he asked as the other man fumbled with a cord. After parting her hair, he inserted the plug into a jack behind her right ear. “Just think of the meadows Claire,” the anguished man pleaded. “Just think of the flowers, and somehow I will find you there.” The craft prepared for take off as the copilot plugged the other end of the cord into the on board terminal. All clear. Five. Four…
2nd place // @sigmund (19th SEPT 2014)
"I hope this time i get it right." Sandra thought to herself as she took the pill and prepared her mind for what is now an inevitable slumber, a sleep she now needs if she ever hopes to be with the love of her life. On the 12th of Jan 2018, she had gone for her best friend's engagement party, she had given a toast and listened carefully when Dave, the groom, shared the story of how he first met Stacy. She had listened not because she loved the story but because she couldn't help but stare at the man she loves more than anything else, the man who is now about to get married to her best friend. When everyone raised their cups for a toast, she had raised her heart hoping that somehow, everything could all go back to that night when she first met Dave. She had grabbed a bottle of Rombauer Chardonnay wine, gulped half its content before rushing down to the toilet to cry her eyes out. By the time the party was over, she was half drunk and half crazy. Holding her heels in her hand and kissing Dave squarely on the lips, she had left the party a broken lady. In her drunken state, someone walked up to her and gave her a bunch of pills, "they would help with the pain" he said. When Sandra got home, she took one of the pills without second thoughts and slept off almost immediately. Sandra woke up to the sound of her roommate and best friend calling her name, "Wake up Sandra, we'll be late for prom" Stacy said. "How do you mean prom? Yesterday was your engagement party, you are supposed to be with Dave" Sandra replied with a look of bewilderment. "What are you talking about? What engagement party and who is Dave?" Stacy replied. It was then it started to dawn on her, she looked at the date, 19th Sept 2014 She looked at the pills and it all came to her. Somehow the pill she took brought her back to the day she met Dave. Now all she had to do was make sure she wins his heart before Stacy has a chance to. But it wasn't as easy as she had thought. After 9 pills, she wasn't anywhere near winning Dave's heart. One time she was tagged a stalker, another time she was thrown out through the window by his friends. She was beginning to wonder when this infinite loop would end. "I hope this time i get it right." Sandra thought to herself as she looked at the date again, 19th Sept 2014!!!
3rd place // @jhaysnsonofbenz “VIA”
Via awoke with ease, she was stunned. For years now, waking up has been the hardest thing for her to do. But today, she stood up like an athletic. Standing on gallant feet, she inhaled. Her lungs responded swiftly. Via took in deep breaths until she felt her chest was about to burst open. The air smelled of picoline. An anticeptic, where was she? Via took a quick glance around. She was at a river bank. Thick trees bothered the walk way. The river had a silvery-blue waters that looked imaginable inviting. Via could swear she had never been to this place, yet something about it looked strangely familiar. This river bank, it appears bears a little semblance to the painting that hung in her living room. A painting that Via always reasoned was a picture of her ideal paradise. Is this paradise? Via pinched herself and got a sensation she perceived to be that of an injection administered. The pain not withstanding, Via felt relieved to be alive. She looked at the river again, quiet, eerily. It's been long she took a dive, and being well again nourished her the desire to swim in the steady waters. Via took a step forward, dipping her finger in the waters and watched her reflection rippled with the waves created. So inviting, Via steadied herself for a dive. She longed for soothing peace the water had to offer. As she prepared to dive, a heat of searing pain tore through her chest. She felt like she'd been hit by a defibrillator . In an instant, she heard distinct voices behind her and a beep that musically and rythmically sounded like her heartbeat. Via glanced back, but saw no one; only the calm rustling of the leaves above. She looked at the river again, "how bad can a dive be?" She reasoned. She plunged, crashing into the waters and letting herself free. The pains she felt yesterday gone, as an unexpected peace settled on her. Via had never felt more alive as this steady water took her to a place she knew not. She was willing to follow it to where it ended. In the building of the Compton County Hospital, group of four specialist are trying, against all odds to bring one Miss Via Penson back to life
I wanted this week’s story image to revolve around expression. I’ve been lost thinking about story board panels, silent movies, and the wonderful documentary “The Kindgom of Dreams and Madness” which I find very inspiring. In the documentary Hayao Miyazaki explains how each scene has a mood and how expressive each character has to be; watch the film and you’ll understand why.
This week, to win extra STEEM, I want to challenge everyone to write a story that’s EXACTLY 15 sentence with no clear beginning or ending. Think of the story as if you were reading from a page that was left open or any film by Tarantino or the Coen Brothers.
A portion of the prize pool is a contribution courtesy of @artwatch! Thanks so much for helping to sponsor this writing contest! Please give @artwatch a follow!
Prizes:
1st // 5SBD (5 BONUS STEEM)
2nd // 3SBD (3 BONUS STEEM)
3rd // 1SBD (1 BONUS STEEM)
Contest Rules:
Resteem this post.
Create a separate post with your ONE PARAGRAPH stories and use the #foxtales tag.
Feel free to use the current story image for your post.
Submit your post in the comment section below.
Maximum of 3 entries - only one story per person will qualify for a portion of the prize pool so everyone has a fair chance.
The length is to your interpretation. There is no real ‘rule’ of how long a paragraph is but I’d say to use your best judgement. If it doesn’t flow right and you know that it is indeed going over then edit your writing.
Write a 15 sentence story with no clear beginning and ending to win the extra bonus STEEM prize!
Deadline // Friday March 2nd // 5:00 UTC
Great contest idea. That artwork really got me inspired. Here's my entry:
'Down, up, left, aaand right,' Mal said, tweaking, massaging the skin around its eye. It was cold to the touch now, but he could fix that, surely. He paused, frowning, hand quivering. 'Where the hell am I going wrong?' he sighed. 'Maybe I should give up on this one.' He sat back in the creaking chair and cupped his jaw, rasping dirty fingers against day-old stubble. Mal cast his bloodshot eyes to the crowded corner of the shack, a shrine to his multiple failures. A mocking smell haunted him and he wasn't sure whether it was just in his head, but it was the only thing that felt real right now. Just as old age had done, the cold morning crept up on him. A filthy slick had pooled in the gaps between collapsing cobblestones, but reflected there, for just a moment, he could see the naïve sky. He cracked his bent knuckles – pop pop pop – and turned again to his work. 'Do you see me yet, little princess?' he muttered, half coughing. His phlegm tasted metallic. He stroked its tranquil face. 'Wakey wakey.'
https://steemit.com/foxtales/@anjkara/naivety-week-15-fox-tales-one-paragraph-story
Congrats! You’ve won 3rd place!
Yay thanks @vermillionfox :D
Here's my entry :)
Every time it rains very hard, my restless eyes are calmed. The rain brings forth tranquility I have dearly missed and an imagery I longed to see again. It reminds me of you, a playful spirit and a lavender tempest. "A puddle of water is a puddle of joy, Gerard." I don't know how you can say that with a very straight face. For a guy that detests lightning, fever and cold, it's very magical and quite stupid. You don't give a damn about it, and you give a very bright smile that irritates me more. How did I befriend this stubborn childish girl? How did I befriend her when all I really wanted was more than that? Yeah it sucks to have fallen in love with your best friend. Once it stormed so hard you can't see a thing, you ran and play underneath it while I was stuck with an umbrella, carrying your stuff. You're so perverse. Even so, you blend with the gloomy lavender rain admirably. It reminds me how out of my league I am. It makes me weak, coward, afraid to tell my feelings for you. You are the only wish the brightest stars didn't give me. Then out of the blue, I woke up. I remembered, three years ago was rough. Three years ago, you left, without bidding goodbye. You left before I get the chance to confess my unrequited love for you. How dare you turn my lively eyes into sorrowful, restless and regretful orbs. So many days I have wasted. So many rains I have missed. I should have played with you, when you were still alive. I should have lived the moment with you. I should have told you the words you longed to hear. Helen, it's raining so hard right now. It's not the usual rain you enjoy, I bet. It's a gray and sorrowful and regretful rain. I guess we all have our firsts. I hope while I'm dancing to the tune of skies' requiem, my feelings will reach you. I know you are now playing with the sweetest rain, free from the world's toxicity. I hope these puddles could wash away my sadness, my longing of you. I will be okay, not now but maybe sooner. I never knew healing hurts more than the wound.
Original post: https://steemit.com/foxtales/@ajpaulo/foxtales-week-15-helen
THANK YOU FOR THIS CONTEST :D
Hello @vermillionfox, this is my entry for the bonus contest :)
Now you're feeling it, aren't you? I have warned you all about this, how they will end you. Now give them torment, sadness. Do not fret, for they deserved this. Rekindle hell's flame more! Pierce the holy swords of heaven to the wicked hearts of mankind! Now let them feel the pain, the agony creeping in their skins. Crush their unwilling bones, and you will feel tranquility. This is it, the moment you've been waiting for. Stop the time and see their brains implode. Destroy the city that stole your golden epoch. Burn them to ashes, but slowly if you may. They don't own you, you own them! You own our lives, our love, our hatred. You have every right to take it!
Wooooow...
Thanks @vermillionfox and the judges for seeing my story fit to gain the third place position.... I think it's my first contest winning in steemit... (Happy)
So happy...
Thanks again
And to all the other contestant, you guys are all winners too, let's keep supporting @vermillionfox for the good work she's doing here...
Am off to follow @artwatch, while I prepare my entry for the next contest ... What are you guys waiting for? Why not join me
It's been forever since I last submitted my entry for the contest! Glad to be back. Here's my first entry ^^
When the last drops of rain had ceased to fall, Sakura looked up at the clearing sky with hopeful eyes. The wound on her leg was still hurting as much as she could last remember. Where was she supposed to go? Why was she hurt? Her memories were floating in a haze like the clouds in the sky. Disappointed, she picked up a twig and began to lazily play with the puddle next to her feet. Her last recollection were of an aged man with ragged clothes, who, as much as she was sure of, had kindly asked her to call him 'big brother'. She faintly recalls him telling her to wait in the alleyway as he would be bringing her some food. And well, with her stomach grumbling as loud as a monster, she certainly couldn't disregard his humble offer. She sulkily looked to her side because it had been forever since he was gone. Waiting was never this boring, she thought. But her eyes soon lighted up when she could clearly make out the footsteps and the figure of a person approaching her way. He squatted down in front of her and his familiar features somehow sparked a very strange sensation throughout her body. His hands clutched a packet of her favorites pastries and a knife glistening against the light of the puddle. On his face was plastered the most unusual smile she had ever seen.
Original post: https://steemit.com/foxtales/@ryunamist/foxtales-week-15-ambiguity
@moneyinfant has added your contest to the list Steemit Writing Contests: Issue #31. The list is updated on a daily basis and your contest will remain on the list until its expiration - there's nothing you need to do.
The list was created to save writers the excessive amount of time spent searching through the #contest tag for writing contests. Now they can just come to the list each day, see new contests and use their time doing what they love - writing.
If you'd like to help spread the word about the Steemit Writing Contest List I'd really appreciate a resteem, but it certainly isn't necessary. The project is simply meant to help writers save time and contest creators attract more contestants.
P.S. If you know of any contests I've missed I'd love to hear about them. Thanks!
Hello there @vermillionfox,
Thank you for this awesome prompt, I tried to get down and dirty like Kill Bill, but since we landed somewhere in the beginning of the tale this is what we have ...
Here is my official entry
… gilda looked through the cracks of her browstone and the beautiful display of pastel blue sky before the bombs exploded one more time. she jumped with fright as she heard another round of people screaming for their lives. she knew she had to get out of the attic before someone found her, the soldiers were swarming the streets and killing people -- blood was everywhere. she held on tightly to her gun and extra ammunition she had hidden away now that she was alone. gilda was visibly shaking, but knew she had to just breathe and focus just as her survivalist classes had taught her, she could do this. the bug-out bag she had created was ready to go but she only had a few more meals left, she had to make it out the door and on the route she practiced over and over before the takeover. she heard the shouts in the street and knew there were still too many people to make a go of it, she would have to wait a little longer. suddenly, gilda heard a crash downstairs and heard many footsteps rushing into the kitchen. there were men and women voices, by the sound of it there were around 10 people were eating, drinking, and having sex. it took everything for her not to jump out the window and run for her life, but she knew she had to remain calm. there was no way she would be able to move since the floors would creak. the unwelcome visitors would surely hear her. gilda started to meditate and get into the mindset of no space or time. when she brought herself out of the zone, she looked up through the exposed brick to see the twinkling of stars. she didn’t hear a sound and quickly grabbed her bag to head out of the newly exposed brick that led out to the neighbors rooftop ...
Original link
https://steemit.com/writing/@eaglespirit/week-15-fox-tales-gilda
Respectfully submitted, @eaglespirit
Congrats! You’ve won 1st place!
Awesome! Well done Eagle! :D
Thank you anj! i'm not sure if you saw my congrats to you in the tavern last night. xx Eagle
Yes. I left a :heart: by it. Thank you. Well played x
Glad you saw it. x
My second entry!:
"Puddle, puddle on the floor, tell me who's an ugly whore?" His sinister laugh echoed through the alley as he paced back and forth while waving his stick around. Agreeing for the deal in broad daylight was never a good idea to begin with, but the thrill of it was too tempting for DM to refuse. His impatient hands were tightly gripping the cane while he searched for even a single soul in his desserted view. The only thing keeping him company were his collection of flasks spread out on the table next to his van. His smile would beam on his face everytime he stopped in his track to glance at them. There was nothing he could do but admire the expressions they held. But his attention was soon stolen by the noise of a galloping horse cart heading his way. It stopped next to his van and DM enthusiastically strode forward to welcome his new guest - a hooded figure who held a black box in his hands. He placed it on he table and took out a glass flask from the inside, quite similar to the ones DM had. As if he couldn't hold back for another moment, DM quickly snatched it away and held it infront of his face for a closer look. Inside was wriggling something which made DM unable to stop the malicious grin from spreading on his face - a fresh and living human eye. He stared at the flask with pleasant satisfaction. Oh, how I wish I was the witness of the horror on her beautiful face after she had been defiled. He muttered and placed it on the table with the other ones.
Original post: https://steemit.com/foxtales/@ryunamist/foxtales-week-15-the-killer
Congrats Ryun :D
Thank you ^^
Yay! Congrats! You’ve won 2nd place!
Thank you 😘
Kinda unsure about this...
Hannah felt the sharp pain in her right foot. She looked at the stump she hadn't noticed and something looked queer. There was a sudden flicker of light. She bent to observe it closely and it blinked. It was an eye. An eye? She turned up suddenly and noticed the eyes everywhere. She slowly began to retract her steps and felt another pain in her right foot. She turned to look. Another stump, another eye. She looked up suddenly and noticed several eyes handing in the air, all starring at her. She began to cry and squeezed her right hand. Her mother felt the squeeze on her hand, and turned to her. Hannah was obviously uncomfortable in the room of the eyes. Her constant movement was distracting to the other tourists in the room, most of whose feet she had kicked against. She led Hannah gently out of the room.
https://steemit.com/foxtales/@iamthegray/the-room-of-the-eyes-original-short-story-week-15-fox-tales
Hi @vermillionfox I've included this competition in my Contests of Steemit 2018 article if that's OK! Thanks
I'll try to submit something when my creative juices are replenished!
Here is my entry.
https://steemit.com/all/@sweetjoy/fox-tales-weekly-writing-contest-entry
Great contest. Thank you. Joy