#SSC 9/ May22-28th


amazing_large_crystal_chandelier_12_light_1_1024x1024.jpgBefore we get to our challenge prompt, it’s time to announce the week seven winner. That week was all about showing a mother’s love.

The results were VERY close. We were one away from a tie. A. R. Hadley almost stole it . . . but (for the second time this month) the renowned Elizabeth Burgess took the win! Elizabeth blogs here. She’s a regular contributor to the Scribble Challenge, AND the co-author of these great titles:


Her submission:

Elizabeth“One more push, Lina. Just one more.” The nurses’ voice was optimistic and upbeat, encouraging Lina to dig deep for the strength to carry on. Unconsciously, she touched her belly. Soon, the only reminder she’d ever been pregnant would be the stretch marks lining her hips and breasts. Soon, she’d be a normal girl again, going to summer parties and looking for colleges to attend next year.
“That’s it, honey. You’re doing excellent,” her mother said, tears brimming in her eyes. She’d wanted to keep the baby. To try. But Lina said no. Something inside of her said this baby was special and needed more than a sixteen-year-old girl could provide. Lina knew the moment she saw the profile of the family she chose that they were the ones. The Osmonds. A middle-aged couple, both in their mid-forties. They were infertile, and though several adoptions had fallen through, they were trying one last time. Lina was determined for this one to stick.
A newborn’s cry filled the cold room, and Lina heard the doctor say, “It’s a girl, Lina.” He paused. “Do you want to hold her?”
“One second, please?” she pleaded. As the tiny bundle passed to her arms, she wept almost as loudly as the newborn. Lina didn’t want to let her go. This was her child. Her baby. Her daughter who so easily quieted in her mother’s arms. Selfishness said keep her, love said let her go. Lina kissed the little one’s cheeks and tousled a lock of her dark hair. The child would not remember this day, but Lina would. “I love you. I will always love you.” After one last look at her daughter, she said to the nurse nearby, “Take her to her parents.”

Elizabeth captured the adoption beautifully. The win was well deserved! Congratulations, Elizabeth. It’s my pleasure to invite you and/or your work to be featured AGAIN in an upcoming post on Scribbles on Cocktail Napkins. This can be done in whatever way you like: a reblog, a guest blog, or even a small sample of your latest book along with a purchasing link. You decide!

Now, lets get down to the NEXT challenge.Sometimes stories are relayed to readers through an UNRELIABLE NARRATOR. There are several reasons a narrator may be unreliable. The character may be lying, or intentionally holding back what really happened. Huckleberry Finn is an example of an unreliable narrator—as a boy who doesn’t understand the significance of the events he describes. Shutter Island is a masterfully written book which uses its unreliable narrator for a dastardly twist in the final pages.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it:


The Rules: There are six days to ruminate if you need them. Post one submission to the prompt in the comment section below this post.



  • The NEW deadline? Monday, May 30th @noon Atlantic Daylight Time.
  • 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.


These flash fiction challenges fuel creativity! They’re also a relatively painless pool for writers who’ve never posted their work to wet those feet, OR for established authors/bloggers to pick up a few new readers.

So, what are you waiting for? Unleash your writerly self.

Trolls will be escorted back to their bridge along with a flaming stick of dynamite.



12 thoughts on “#SSC 9/ May22-28th

  1. Pingback: Sunday Share 28 | All In A Dad's Work

  2. “She’s lying,” I said.

    The mob murmured and nodded, raising their torches. They set her aflame.

    I drooled with desire for the intimate scent of her cooking flesh.

    “How’d you know?” someone asked.

    I shrugged, keeping my attention on the girl. They grow still just before they‘re ready.

    Liked by 4 people

  3. Drip. Drip. I awoke.

    The house a mess. Black paint splattered all over the floor, pooling at the entryway to my kitchen. Hanging from the ceiling, covered in paint, was…my husband? Not paint.

    I screamed.

    Stinging set in on my palms. Burns, I’d seen only once before.

    Liked by 1 person

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