The Widow

I enjoyed being a guest editor/judge for last week, but it’s back to the writing this weekend, with 33 words inspired by the idiom ‘third time’s the charm’.

My first husband? Drowned.

My second husband? He got run over. Tragic.

My third husband? He thinks it’s third time’s the charm for him.

But I haven’t quite decided on his fate yet…



This weekend, are asking for 33 words on what summer means to us. For me, summer happens at Glastonbury Festival. I am sooo excited to be going again in just under 2 weeks time!

Daisy chain in my hair. Grass between my toes. Lukewarm cider in my hand. Music blaring. Dancing in a muddy field. Wearing wellington boots and sunglasses. Total freedom. Summer makes me feel alive.

Home Alone

This week’s challenge from is to write between 33 and 333 words including the word ‘light’ with the definition ‘a source of light as: a celestial body/candle/electrical light’.

Lucy gasped with shock as the light flickered over the body. The throat had been cut, and there was a bloodied knife lying on the floor.


Lucy thought she’d been the only one in the house for the past two weeks.


This weekend’s Trifecta Challenge is to write an entire story in 3 sentences, with no word limit. Check out how other people got on over at

As a little girl, Mary liked to read fairy-tales, and loved the happy endings.

As a twenty-something, Mary married the most handsome man in her town.

As a very old lady, Mary passed away peacefully, surrounded by her family’s love.

Freak Show

This week’s challenge is to use the word ‘freak’, and the definition ‘one that is markedly unusual or abnormal’, in a piece 33-333 words long. 

My family’s always been in the circus. Since the days of wooden caravans, and way before candyfloss was ever even thought of. Can you imagine?! 

Lots has changed over the years, like we don’t have a lion tamer, or elephants anymore. But we do still have a red and white striped big top. And we still have freaks.

Aside from always travelling around with the circus, I’m like any other fourteen year-old girl. I love make-up, and pizza, and celebrity magazines. I like hanging out with my best friend in the circus, Bessie – she’s an acrobat.

And like every other fourteen year-old girl, there’s stuff that bothers me too. Like, I wish boys would notice me, and find me attractive. Especially the tightrope walker’s son – he’s hot. I wish I could fit in with the rest of the acrobats too. I’m sure Bessie only hangs out with me because she feels sorry for me. I also wish I was as beautiful as my Mum. She’s a trapeze artist, and the most graceful person I know. More graceful than I’ll ever be, that’s for sure.

I like circus life though, most of the time. I like the bright lights, the sparkling costumes, the audience’s excitement. When I’m older, I’d quite like to be a juggler. I think I’d be good at it with my three arms.

You see, I’d love to be a trapeze artist, or one of the acrobats. But just like the bearded woman, and the two-headed dog before me, I’m the freak.

On Paper

This week’s challenge from is to write a piece using the word ‘appear’, meaning ‘to have an outward aspect/seem’. 

I’m Marie Smiley. Thirty years old. I’m married to Max. I have a little boy, Jack. He’s two. He’s my world. 

On paper, I appear to have the perfect life. Hell, even my surname’s happy.

Everywhere I go though, I hear whispers. When I take Jack to the play centre, I hear other Mums whispering about me. Could she be wearing any more make-up? She’s too over-protective of that little boy. I hear her husband’s having an affair. They appear to think I can’t hear, but their words cut me like a knife.

They don’t know half of what goes on behind closed doors. They don’t know that my thick make-up covers the bruises. I always seem to have a black eye, or a split lip.

I’m protective of my little boy, because he’s the only man I’ll ever be able to trust.

Yes, my husband does have a mistress. I wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t one of those gossiping Mums. He also has a shocking temper, and likes to lash out at me.

On paper, I really do have the perfect life. In reality, I need to get out.

Next time Max comes for me in one of his rages, I’m fighting back.

I keep my knives sharpened ready.

The Tale of Carrie and George

This week’s challenge from is to write between 33 and 333 words, including the word ‘pedantic’, with the definition ‘unimaginative’.

Carrie and George were an average couple. He was a doctor, she was a painter. They had a cat named Fluffles, and a goldfish named Spike. They lived in a second-floor apartment in London, and things were just tickety-boo. Or so they seemed…

Four years into their relationship, Carrie began to get restless. Her paintings, and her moods, became increasingly erratic. George began to get restless too. He wanted to marry Carrie. He liked how this rhymed. He wanted children too. He told Carrie, and there was a big fight.

Carrie laughed at him for being so pedantic. Marriage? Children? Who wanted those?! So unimaginative! She told George she didn’t want to be with him anymore. She was going to travel, see the world, walk barefoot through Thailand, eat pizza in Rome, and drink tequila in Mexico. She was going to paint everything she saw along the way.

She packed up and left right there and then. George was sad, but knew he’d find someone else to marry and have kids with.

As Carrie crossed the road outside their London flat, she did not see the bus come around the corner.

Her skull hit the kerb with a crack.

Lost Love

This weekend’s challenge from is to write 33 words, including 3 given words from a choice of 6. I chose to include ‘honey’, ‘loop’, and ‘topple’.

She had this voice like honey. 

She had this little loop of hair that she kept brushing off her forehead.

She made my heart topple and flutter.

I have to find her again…