Warmup Wednesday!

Directions: Write a scene or an entire story of 100 words on the nose (no more, no fewer), inspired by this photograph. No judging. All fun. (Normal Flash! Friday guidelines regarding content apply.)
Don’t forget to add your Twitter handle & link to your blog, if you please.

And a few words on how your week’s going would be nice.

 This week’s challenge: include some sort of magic (interpret “magic” as you wish).


Oh Venezia! CC2.0 photo by Jose Maria Cuellar.

Oh Venezia! CC2.0 photo by Jose Maria Cuellar.

45 thoughts on “Warmup Wednesday!

  1. Stuck
    (100 word)

    “Hocus Pocus”

    Nothing happened.

    “Leviticus Loosendorf”
    “Acciomobilus Motmentus”

    As the sun set behind him, Albus remained as still as a statue. He’d been on the boardwalk all day, practising his magic spells while trying not to be noticed. Although he got many a glance for his slightly deranged 17th century composer attire, for the most part, he was doing well. Nobody noticed the wand up his sleeve that manipulated their world.

    It was too bad his wand was pointed at a mirror when he muttered “physicalus immobilus.”

    Not remembering how to reverse it was even worse.

  2. The “Golden Hour” was fading rapidly, so too the dancer’s once elaborate movements. Energy was wavering. No longer able to feed off the fuel provided by the moon as the scroll predicted, the setting sun remained the only source the dancer could capture and transform into life essence like a plant photosynthesizing invisible rays into tangible food. Presenting this new creature harboring newly acquired gifts would be a challenge for any citizen but for a foreigner like me who borrowed the original dancer and returned a wholly altered being, this would not bode well for my report on establishing trust.

    @liquidstorms Hope I submitted this correctly! My week has been amazingly complex in so many ways!

  3. His dance halted, with his hands still held aloft. The grand ballroom was gone. The Whole building was gone. He’d heard people say you could be transported by dance, but this was ridiculous! The setting sun (or was it rising?) painted the open sky above a golden wash of freedom. He brought his hands down to his sides. There were whispers in the family that his grandfather had been a magician. Perhaps it was true. He didn’t know where he was, but it certainly wasn’t anywhere to do with his old life he’d been wanting to escape for so long.

    It’s been a fairly ordinary week for me, as a stay at home mum. Not enough sleep or writing happening, but I’m getting there!

  4. It’s Close to Midnight
    Margaret Locke (margaretlocke.com or @Margaret_Locke)
    100 words

    His arms jerked in rhythmic, robotic fashion. His head dipped in repeated patterns. His legs took on a life of their own, moving in a hypnotic cadence that he could not control. He clutched his groin.

    “What is this?” he screamed, his heart pulsing to the beat.

    “It’s possession,” cried one man.

    “It’s magic,” declared another.

    “No, you’re wrong,” said the young woman. She took a spot next to him, her movements mirroring his own.

    His eyes bulged wide, searching hers for answers.

    She winked as they strutted side to side. “Just give in. ‘Cause this is Thriller, Thriller Night…”

  5. Again, I yearn to invoke the power of Dylan and ‘dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free’. To stand with my toes in the sand and watch the sun glide into the sea. Summon the cool, blue air of spring and become more intoxicated with each gulping breath.

    I tell myself, wishing is not strong enough magic to make this happen here.

    Later, pulling my jacket on, I gleefully find, stored all winter deep in my pocket, the shell from last time. It fits in my palm perfectly, precious and hard, its grain reminds me the way.

    F. E. Clark – @feclarkart Neglected blog: http://www.feclarkart.com/blog
    Terribly busy with ‘muggle work’ this week, and I seem to have lost my wand, and my sense of humour! 🙂

  6. Word Count 100 excluding title


    In the land of make-believe I’ve been told
    A beautiful princess doth dwell, tell
    Its not for me to inform, not so bold
    from accounts she’s a damsel, so swell
    Oh, her skin so fair, could be transparent
    the countenance of a mischievous child
    narrator of this tale, love apparent
    Obvious, enchanting girl him beguiled
    Ah, his listeners curiosity piqued
    to find her, compulsion, an aching need
    this princess was in every nook sought
    some put a bounty on her head, the greed
    In many a gents mind a seed has been planted
    One she may favor, their wishes granted

  7. Quirky

    I like happy people that believe in magic and magical people that believe in happy. I dance to the beat of my own drum I never know what song I’ll hum. A word to describe me would probably be quirky although I have been called an aging hippy.

    Clothed in my own particular style I like making people smile. Busking is a hobby of mine but in stead of singing I may mime. A child’s soul trapped in a man’s body I’ll happily accept an ice lolly. Tip me as you go it will help me more than you know.

  8. He awoke with no clue as to where he was or where, even, he had spent his last few days. All he knew were the strange sounds of great commotion from outside the room in which he had awoken.

    Within seconds a knock fell on the chamber’s door as two men rushed inside. “GET UP! We have minutes to leave this house.” As Robert tried to focus on their faces, one man forced a jacket over Robert’s head as the other gathered his tools into a bag. “Your sister has lost her life, and they are coming to take yours.”

  9. Feel The Burn (100 words)

    Venice, Queen of the Adriatic, had once been ruled by Doges, elected officials managed the great city from the Doge’s Palace adjacent to St. Mark’s Basilica. The men lived well, enjoying the wonderful foods and libations brought from cultures to the East. To maintain their focus, a strict fitness regiment was mandatory. Each morning, before the pigeons awoke, these men would gather in St. Mark’s square for calisthenics. Led by an enthusiastic trainer, they would warm up with stretches, wave their arms to minstrel music and do deep knee bends. The carbs would melt away like magic.

    I love this prompt! Venice is my favorite city in the world. Here on Cape Cod, the first crocus blossoms are bringing welcomed color to the melting landscape. Spring is afoot!

  10. A New World
    Word Count: 100

    Max was stunned.

    It was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. All the stories he’d heard as a young boy had been true. There did exist a world where fire lit the sky each morning, bathing the land in golden light.

    He stood, motionless, staring at the expanse of this new world. This wonderful, breathtaking place was the only hope for his starving people.

    “What are you, a statue? Let’s keep moving!” The commander shouted.

    Max tore his gaze away, the world dimming around him as his eyes adjusted. This was his new home, his future.

  11. @awenthornber

    Away With The Fairies

    “Dance” they said. “Dance.”
    “What for?” I cried. “Why should I dance?”
    “Look at the sky; the cerulean blues, blush pinks, ivory whites. See the spotlight from the sun, lay rich silver and golden sheets along the dusty roof tops.”
    I looked, but still I didn’t dance.
    “Dance!” The Fay urged. “Dance!”
    “Because nature paints you an ever changing decor, from palettes of mountain lilacs, leafy sap greens, cool ocean cobalt blues, through to fiery sunset oranges. Dance, because you are alive.”
    “So I danced. I didn’t stop dancing until the heart slowed and the Fay said, enough!”

    100 words

    The sun is shining. I am writing. My soul is dancing. Today is a good pain free day. Hope yours is too x

    • Oops, note to self. Check I have copy and pasted the version that doesn’t have speech marks around the whole last sentence ! Ah well, please read it with the last set of speech marks around “enough”
      thank You x

  12. The history of music – Part One


    Archduke Rudolf face palmed. ‘Ludwig, what on earth?’
    ‘It’s great, isn’t it?’ Beethoven closed his eyes as the sound of the tinny harpsichord filled the air.’
    ‘I’m thinking of calling it House music.’
    ‘House? Whatever happened to your piano concerto? The sonata you mentioned…’
    ‘Piffle your Grace. This is the way forward.’
    ‘After last year’s farce in front of my parent’s? Twenty seven organs with you sticking your head in the pipes of each one. You’ll go deaf, you know.’
    ‘It was awesome, Rudy. I invented a new dance. Do you want to see it?’
    ‘You’re possessed.’
    Beethoven beamed. ‘Magic!’

    Off out with the youth club after a day writing. Perfect.

  13. Doing the moves.. 100 words

    “Foreign types with their hookah pipes… Foreign types with their hookah pipes…”

    Atem elbowed the CD-player again, the read head skipping over the sand jamming the mechanism. It’d been his fifth day on the job – today, he was building a pyramid – and he was really enjoying being a magician. ChronoCorp had ‘flashed’ a tracked mobile crane back to 2550 BC and this, together with a truck full of pyrotechnics, had been enough to permit him to stay on schedule AND keep the bearded locals away for the building site. But tomorrow, he was parting the red sea… “like an Egyptian.”

    It’s been a good day for me today. Progress on a number of fronts: family health and progress on the writing too.

  14. Magic Dance

    His magic dance, he would tell passers-by, was like the Safety Dance- but rather than being about escaping tyranny to dance a desired style, his dance was about escaping the dangers and tyranny of the sun.

    He sought, you see, to create a permanent state of sunset so that it would never be hot enough to burn or cause cancer or sunstroke.

    For a long time it only worked in gaining attention. Soon others dressed like him and copied the strange, stiff and slow movements that he made.

    When it did finally work, well, the twilight of the world began.


    My week is going well enough, I suppose. The students in the library are hunkering down for exams while I am finally getting going on my essays (bar this meander).

  15. Streetlights


    Dawn smiled its tangerine dream greeting on the piazza, nudging shadowy spies into view. Carnevale was almost over but the disapproval of the Church lapped fiercely at the city’s watery gates, convinced that witchcraft had claimed the Venetian Republic. And so the Inquisition had arrived, declaring their intention of bringing the light of God into the Republic’s heretical world.

    The Master of Ceremonies held no truck with these pompous little men. But if it was light they wanted …

    He murmured softly, gave a flourish of his hand and the spies were transformed. Tonight they would shine in the dark.

    It’s been a quiet week, a little reading, a little writing, a lot of falling asleep when I get home from work. Roll on the end of term! (My school breaks up for Easter next Thursday – yay).

  16. Sunrise

    Martinique stared at the silhouette dancing in the earning morning sun. She jumped up and down on her parents bed, “Daddy, there’s a man dancing outside.”

    Her Father opened one eye, “Don’t worry, that’s just Sol. He dances to the sun every morning.”
    “So the sun know’s it’s time to wake up.”
    “What if he forgets?”
    “Then it would be dark. Now go back to sleep.”
    Martinique reluctantly placed her head back on the pillow, marvelling at the magic of the world.

    Mummy whispered quietly, “What’s actually going on outside?”
    “Just a drunk student doing the walk of shame.”

    Another busy week this week work wise, I am looking forward to things calming down again in the hopefully not too distant future. In much more exciting news, our little girl has started talking, which means I am no longer able to curse. This has required some spectacular last minute saves. My favourite this week was Mother Fudger. That one was a bit too close for comfort 🙂

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