A wee bit of writing

There is a site called Writer Unboxed. Writers come in a box, you see, and they open up the box, you see, and . . . 

Nah; yet another advice for writers site. Sometimes they have useful stuff, sometimes not. One thing they do have is a monthly contest. I entered the March contest. I’m writing about it now because they ask it not be published anywhere until after the judging.

Yes, yes, I know . . . there is not a pasta bowl’s chance in my house of me winning anything. What can I say? I was weak. For them who don’t click on links, they give a prompt in the form of a photo and people submit a story up to 250 words in length. 

What? What do you mean “what people?” 

It’s people; people like me. People who aspire of writing good. 

Anyway, the prompt was this photo:

My entry was the following:

The Mural

© E. J. D’Alise 2015

“Mom, he’ll eventually kill us if you don’t.”

The pain in Lisa’s half-swollen left eye caused both her eyes to tear up. Lisa wiped the tears to better see her daughter. Her sweet innocent daughter. What kind of world had she brought her into?

Melody tugged at Lisa’s sleeve and then let go, pointing to the mural.  Melody’s other arm was in a cast. ‘Skateboarding accident’ is what they told the hospital.

Lisa looked at her daughter’s hopeful face and then back at the mural.

“Where did you hear such a thing?” Lisa asked.

Melody looked away as she asked, “Promise you won’t get mad?”

“I promise.”

“There’s . . . there’s a private internet group where kids chat about the  . . . sort of problems we face.”

“You told someone about us?” Lisa asked, fear tensing her tone. The cost of telling others was high. A lesson already painfully learned.

“It’s anonymous, mom. Please, just draw the circle; we’ll both do it.” Melody’s voice carried the edge of desperation.

Lisa looked back at the mural. A happy lady blowing bubbles. The hopeful look on Melody’s face had her relent, and she nodded.

Lisa and Melody both reached into the tin basket under the mural, grabbed a couple of pieces of chalk, and each drew a circle. Lisa’s red and Melody’s blue.

As they drew, they spoke the same name; Lisa’s husband and Melody’s father.

A week later he disappeared, and they lived happily ever after.

 ~ ~ o o ~ ~

No, I did not win. Did not even place. You can read the winning entry HERE.

Here’s a photo of mine.


Oh, what the heck . . . here’s another.


That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.


Note: if you are not reading this blog post at DisperserTracks.com, know that it has been copied without permission, and likely is being used by someone with nefarious intention, like attracting you to a malware-infested website.  Could be they also torture small mammals.


Please, if you are considering bestowing me recognition beyond commenting below, refrain from doing so.  I will decline blogger-to-blogger awards.   I appreciate the intent behind it, but I prefer a comment thanking me for turning you away from a life of crime, religion, or making you a better person in some other way.  That would mean something to me.

If you wish to know more, please read below.

About awards: Blogger Awards
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Note: to those who may click on “like”, or rate the post; if you do not hear from me, know that I am sincerely appreciative, and I thank you for noticing what I do.

. . .  my FP ward  . . . chieken shit.

About disperser

Odd guy with odd views living an odd life during odd times.
This entry was posted in flash fiction, Flowers, Photography Stuff, Short Stories, Writing Stuff and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

24 Responses to A wee bit of writing

  1. oneowner says:

    Too bad. I like the story very much. But at least both photos are winners.


  2. sandra getgood says:

    Difficult to tuck a good, meaningful story into a few words, unless you are expert at haiku.
    But if you had been allowed another 100 or 150 words? Maybe next time. The contest seemed to like a hook to an existing event, too, I noticed. I like that you take shots at various types of projects…you never throw up your hands and say “why bother?” And I like the pictures, too.


    • disperser says:

      Eh, I don’t think another 150 words would have improved on the story itself.

      As for taking a shot, now that my hopes have been cruelly dashed, the effort of my toil discarded like yesterday’s salad, I shall give up this silly idea of writing, and concentrate instead on eating. Much more rewarding.

      And thanks . . . one of those – the salsify – is hanging on my wall as a series of four. They do look rather nice.


  3. renxkyoko says:

    I like the story,although I’m still thinking why the man disappeared, Is it something supernatural, like, when they drew the bubbles and invoked the guy’s name, the man disappeared ? Or maybe ,the internet site is a group of vigilantes, and by drawing the bubbles is a GO sign, kill him off ?


    • disperser says:

      My thinking ran along the lines of the internet site working in conjunction with the mural. That is, the mural is just a place with an audio pickup that someone check every few days.

      Between the two, enough information would be gathered, some background checks done, and then someone with a strong antipathy to bullies takes them out.

      Think Dexter for abusers.

      . . . one can daydream, right?


  4. One could only wish that abusers could be surrounded by a bubble and disappear for good. Very creative, disperser. Love the artwork, too. ;-)


  5. Eddy Winko says:

    I hope you composted the salad.


  6. haydendlinder says:

    I really liked your story. After having read the winners story I think I still prefer yours but at least the winner has the gift and isn’t a total schlub. I would keep writing if I were you.


  7. By the bye ej how did you go with that other thing a few months ago were you selected for the appraisal or whatever it was? If not why not?


    • disperser says:

      Don’t know yet. I think she’s supposed to announce the winner in June.

      I’m not holding my breath, and I doubt she will let all the contestant know the ‘why’ they were not selected.

      She probably won’t even explain the ‘why’ she chose the winner.

      . . . and I’m not holding my breath because otherwise I pass out.


  8. If you hadn’t split that infinitive you’d probably have taken out first place

    Liked by 1 person

  9. good story!! more lyrical than Dolores Claiborne by S. King!! beautiful work!


  10. AnnMarie says:

    Touching story. And I don’t recall seeing that second floral photo, very stunning!


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