#SSC One: March 27-April 2 /2016

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You have six days to ruminate if you need them. Post one submission to the prompt in the comment section below. The deadline? Saturday, April 2nd @noon Atlantic Daylight Time.

  • Encourage other Scribblers. Try to comment (reply) to at least three other submissions during the week.
  • After the deadline, VOTE for your favorite submission by emailing: Sundayscribblechallenge@gmail.com. Place the lucky author’s name in the HEADER of your email.

*Remember:

Voting polls OPEN immediately after the prompt deadline on April 2, and CLOSE one week later, on April 9. That means, the winner of THIS challenge won’t be announced until Sunday, April 10, when our THIRD challenge prompt is posted.

Sneaky?? Maybe. It’s definitely a good way to rope you back in the next challenge!

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99 thoughts on “#SSC One: March 27-April 2 /2016”

  2. She stumbled to the riverbed, breathless and panting, and scooped it to her mouth over and over again, swallowing the cool water in quick gulps. Her own eyes, startlingly sunken and hollowed, stared back at her from the surface of the murky depths as she paused for a breath. “He’ll pay for this,” she muttered.

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  3. I clawed at my eyes as the pain shot straight to their core, burning with an electricity that harbored fear of what I’d see when I stumbled my way over to a mirror. Banging my head into a cabinet—no doubt—I stood pulling shaking hands away, so I may know the creator of such agony. As I opened them to the frightening possibilities, all I saw was darkness.

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  4. Her breath stopped for a second as she gazed at her reflection in the dusty mirror. The ancient antique dealer had smiled, then winked when she purchased the mirror earlier in the day. She didn’t care what he thought as she gazed at her now smooth glowing skin and grey-free hair and enjoyed her youth once more.

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  5. Pingback: Corrupted Call | Tales from Eneana

  6. Fun prompt, Jenny!

    “Corrupted Call”

    Marrak’s reflection showed a monster–more poisonous pustules than skin, ears melted beyond recognition, a rotten lumpy gash for a smile.

    All hail Gral, god of corruption, remaking the world in his own image.

    The part of Marrak that was still human recoiled at the townspeople’s screams; the rest of him giggled, burping up bubbles of plague, spitting out slime.

    See the post here: https://talesofeneana.wordpress.com/2016/03/27/corrupted-call/

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  8. He stares gives his take on innocence, a well-practiced hey look at me grin, she smiles because she has to, doesn’t want to break the metered link. He leans in, as if to lick the screen, she recoils, can’t help it, almost smells his tainted breath. I watch, reflection distorted, mirrors his, no more, have to, need to, be a better man than this.

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      • Thank you Jenny, I wouldn’t want to be predictable. The line you loved was a last minute change as I only realised when I’d finished what it was I was writing about! I guess I write so much from the heart for hearts that I like to go completely the other way when I get the chance, darker, playing on the mind…might be the way to go for me, I find it easier than my WIP! Your challenge is proving popular, I like the idea of keeping it all on your blog makes it easier keeping track of who is doing what.

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  9. Waking up alone in a strange house was disorienting enough for her.
    Then she stumbled into the bathroom and moved in closer to the mirror and pressed her finger against the empty piercing hole in her nipple.
    To herself, she asked, ‘Where has that gone?’

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  10. The jagged shards of reflective chrome shown only parts of her face in angular asymmetric daggers. It might explain the torrent of pain coursing through her as well as the plethora of emotions tormenting and calling her out. Ultimately, Sydney took charge and surged ahead of the others and told her, “Get your shit together now!”

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  11. JA, I blame you for need to incorporate or write a story with this character and scene now…not sure whether to curse you or say thank you, haha!

    She’d felt the searing sensation rippling over her skin and winced at the unexpected heat engulfing her face, but she had not been prepared for what her reflection in the pool’s shallow depths would show; her usually clear and oddly moon-white face was covered in elaborately woven together tattoos the color of coal. She reached her fingers tentatively to touch the altered flesh, horrified at this astonishing change in her once familiar features, and yet unable to keep from admiring the delicate and deliberate lines, shapes, and symbols that completed the somehow exquisite design now painting her face.

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  12. She stared back at her reflection on the hull of the runabout. The doctors had told her there would be some changes to her physical appearance. But not this …

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  13. Pingback: Shh! Don’t tell, but… | Dan Alatorre - AUTHOR

  14. I pass my hand across the foggy shower door; my reflection winks back. I look closer it’s still there I didn’t manage to scrub it away. Red and scraped raw my tender breast if it could speak it would be sobbing. I sat with a thud, my eyes blink, the lump sat proud where it didn’t belong.

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  17. Pingback: Shh, Don’t Tell But… PART 2 | Dan Alatorre - AUTHOR

  18. In the light of the full moon he saw his own reflection and felt his muscles tighten. The exciting tingle beneath his skin was familiar, so was the agonizing breaking of bones, the excruciating pain of tearing flesh as he transformed. He looked into her frightened blue eyes, his hairy frame pinning her small body on the bed and howled before he ripped her neck to pieces.

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  20. Pingback: J. L. Phillips/ Thoughts on Writing | J. A. Allen

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