Posted in Learning, Writing

Flower/story challenge – Day 5

[Day 5 of seven]

Great to see so many taking up the challenge, and sticking with it. I’m thoroughly enjoying reading all the stories and learning about the way people express themselves in this way. I have to admit that I also enjoy posing challenges for you, my valued reader. I’m afraid that I can’t stop being a teacher, and so I will continue to challenge – in an intellectual and creative way.

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Today’s challenge is a simple one. This flower, called a Red Hot Poker, is actually orange. Can you write a story that purports to be about one thing (a colour, an expression, a gesture, a room, an experience) but is actually about something else?

I’ll give you up to 100 words as that might allow you more scope to develop something that will better reflect today’s boundaries. You don’t have to post your first draft – I know that Stephanie is working on her stories without yet posting (but I’m confident that she will) – so feel free to edit, re-work, re-shape.

Enjoy!

Is this the colour pokers get when they’re red hot?

Author:

I like to travel and take photographs. I like to blog about both.

7 thoughts on “Flower/story challenge – Day 5

  1. Dwelling in the scattered, impure twilight
    between sense and meaning, between
    commonsense and nonsense;
    between (dare I say?)
    the idea and the reality.

    Hastening slowly towards the increasingly dim,
    impossibly tangerine din
    of vermillion reality as it pounds, pounds,
    pounds its unanswerable question:
    ‘Is that what you want?’

    The answer given, reluctantly at first.
    The response, tangential, still ringing in the ears:
    ‘Facile!’ ‘Impure!’
    Ignoratio elenchi apropos of
    the insidiously real.

    (But of course!)

    Cogito igni ferroque,
    Just words? No such things.
    Just actions.

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  2. Thank you Sharon. I found it! This is for today!

    Chinese Whispers
    My friend lives in Hong Kong. The other day, against the gloomy day and drenching humidity, she donned a bright, loose and flowing top. It’s amazing how such apparel can mask the rivulets of sweat unpleasantly rolling down the spine. She walked into the dining room of the hotel, princess-like, aware of the effect she would have. The elderly and charming waiter quickly obliged: ‘Oh Missy, Missy. You look very, very beautiful today. So beautiful dress you are wearing. VERY big change, VERY, VERY big difference!!’ Was it the Emperor’s New Clothes? You decide.

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  3. Carolyn Glock
    I have only just finished the first challenge – being a late starter!!!! Leo the late Bloomer if you must have a flower analogy!! Where should
    I post it? Sorry if this seems attention seeking!

    Like

    1. Just post it in the comments box at the bottom of the page Carolyn – in the comments box as you’ve done with your question. If you click on the title of each blog, you’ll be able to go back to the first day’s challenge and post your first story there. I get an email asking me to moderate the comment and when I’ve accepted it, it shows up on the blog. Looking forward to reading your story!

      Like

  4. Staring into the deep red orange haze floods my thoughts of those hot summer bushfires which often surrounded our farm. The intense colour screams out danger, immense heat, do not touch yet my hand extends out to touch. I wonder what it feels like! Is it hot? Are the red hot pokers as spiky and burning as they look? How can something be so confronting whilst so calm and beautiful. Swaying, dancing, throwing so many shades of orange and red branching out almost uniformly showing the underlying blackness which only fire brings.

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  5. (It’s dark where they meet, and crowded. They are pushed into each other as everyone flows with the pounding beat. They are the only ones who stop, pushed against that endless tide of movement, as though they are somehow immune to the momentum that propels the others. Even in the cramped darkness, he can tell she is different to the others; somehow new, exotic. But the attraction is familiar. Two become one…)

    Geoff sat. He was feeling… not right. He sneezed, again. Again. He was coming down with something… Damn that kid on the bus, coughing without covering his mouth!

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