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.

** CONGRATULATIONS to our first-ever Flash Dash winner GEOFF HOLME! Your story was blatantly tongue-in-cheek and hilarious. Beautifully structured, it flowed well from start to finish accompanied by some marvelously sophisticated subtext. And pandering aside, the tale sketches a powerful portrait of a writer whose greatest wish is winning recognition of his work, at significant personal cost. This sort of character development transforms an otherwise simple and funny scene to something deeper and resonant. Congratulations for a job truly well done.

Please contact Rebekah here with your email & mailing addresses, and we’ll set you up straightaway with the Golden Ticket & Flash! Friday coffee mug. **

 This week’s Warmup Wednesday challenge: Include a potion of some kind (chemical, magical, etc as you wish).

Joseph Hamilton drinking radiosodium. Public Domain photo.

Joseph Hamilton drinking radiosodium. Public Domain photo.


100 thoughts on “Warmup Wednesday!

  1. Gerald put the beaker to his lips, telling himself to think of it as scotch, but the fishy odour and saltiness made it impossible to think of it as anything other than the Starfish Serum it actually was. The chunky, cylindrical machine he’d placed the stump at the end of his arm into hummed tonelessly to itself. His skin began to itch and burn, and he nearly yanked his arm free, frightened by the alien sensation, but he’d do anything to get his hand back. He just hoped the regenerative power of the serum wouldn’t instead give him starfish arms.


  2. Wanna Bet?

    Jake down the clear liquid in one gulp, and pushed his arm into the steel contraption. It was just a barrel, really. Something to stick his arm through. Something he couldn’t break, or so Clyde claimed.

    Clyde reached in through the other end of the steel barrel and clasped a padded cuff around Jake’s wrist. If he couldn’t break the cuff’s chain, he sure couldn’t break the barrel: not without the NMR22-14, anyway. That stuff made him strong, sure, and big; but even with it Clyde was certain the barrel wouldn’t break.

    Jake had bet his right arm it would.

    Jessica West a.k.a. West1Jess

    My week … well, let’s see. My week has been the same as it has been for the past few weeks; and I’m loving it! I’ve got a few projects I’m working on that are rocking my world, so that’s always good. Nothing new, I guess. Just strolling along my merry way. 🙂

    Love the new challenges, btw. Now you’re doing one on Tuesdays, too?! That’s insane! (But very, very good for the followers/writers here.)

  3. “My God! Look at my hairline!” Mike obsessed though his fiancée, Rebecca, had told him that she was not marrying him for his hair.
    Matt, his workmate, told him about a new hair growth potion. Mike would do anything! “Put your arm through here to keep you steady, and drink this!” Matt encouraged. “This’ll put hair on your chest!”
    Mike imbibed the concoction in one swallow. Immediately, he could feel hair pushing through his chest. He queried Matt, who responded “Yeah, I’ve got a great rug all down my front now. Did nothing for my pate though,” he grinned sardonically.


  4. Wordcount – 100 excluding title


    Apparently he’s a gorgeous mixologist
    I hadn’t got the foggiest
    She explains
    in a repeating refrain
    that we had to go see
    they where meant to be

    He’s a barman with style
    always goes that extra mile
    to get you that perfect cocktail
    your senses to assail
    if she tells me he looks like Tom Cruise
    It better not be a clever ruse

    He said he’d make me a love potion
    I can’t hide my revulsion
    Whatever she sees in him that’s magic
    I can’t, she’s tragic
    I let her have my drink
    In his eyes she starts to sink

  5. sorry my week has been pretty good joints aren’t playing up as much still no internet at home so reading and replying when I can hopefully back up and running next week I’m in work sssshhhh

  6. Sensations
    100 words- excluding title

    I decided to focus on the sensations of the experiment. The magical new isotope I was given was coursing through my veins. I could feel it, warm and sticky, still on my lips. The fear was exhilarating. Nervous laughter threatened to bubble up and burst through my tight throat. What would become of me? Death? Sterility? Surely not. My hand twitched as the machine started up. Humming as it tracked the serum moving silently throughout the highways and byways of my capillaries; filling me with radiation. I could feel vibrations in my fingers. Would I gain superpowers from the x-rays?


  7. COLD SHOWERS (100 words)

    Robert was a good man. But in the eyes of the church he was a sinner. He wasn’t committing any of the Big Seven, though Thanksgiving brings a tad of gluttony.

    His was a more physical, personal sin. He had shared it with priests in confessionals as a youth. Yet as an adult his doctor actually said it was good for his prostate. He had to chose a path.

    Today Robert went in for cutting-edge therapy. The offending hand was placed in the XX-Redeemer and he drank depoprovera. He went home and threw away all his magazines.


    A nice week of garden prep and spring cleaning. I hope my story isn’t too weird. Strong coffee this morning. Looking forward to the new Tuesday morning writing contest. Great idea!

  8. Every test subject reported a distinct flavor. Rory heard descriptions like “cherry Popsicle,” “mocha latte,” “chicken Marsala,” “buckwheat” and “wildflowers.” Such a versatile concoction. Interestingly, those savory sensations were the last part of the process they’d enjoyed.
    While the meter clamp still read of swirling flavors, their changes began. From the observation station, Rory noted intense popping and stretching sounds punctuated by screams as extra limbs, hair and horns sprouted from their bodies. Their agony should have stopped the experiments. However, like members of an obscure cult, every subject had complete faith in Rory’s conviction for the possibility of wings.

    No blog yet- Just starting this writing thing 🙂
    My week: My students are starting their state exams this week. Generally it’s a mind-numbing and exhausting time frame for teachers, too, so I was thankful for this stimulation this morning!

  9. Tamara Shoemaker
    Word Count: 100


    You swill the liquid, staring into its crystal depths.
    All things made clear, she’d said when she’d sprinkled the crystals into the bag.
    The fluid holds no hint of cloud, no obscurity darkens its depths.
    You raise the glass in salute, touch the clear glass to your lips,
    And feel the smooth flow of coolness over your teeth and tongue.
    As the liquid parts your throat, you wait for the curtains to part,
    The decision to illuminate.
    Instead, the glass fades dark.
    Blindness closes in. You drop the glass.
    The sparkling shards don’t make a dent in the absolute blackness.
    As you might imagine from the above offering, I had a rather major decision to make this week regarding my career. Today, I’ve made my decision, but I have no idea if it was the good one or the right one. It’s just the one I made. Feeling a little blue as a result.

  10. Truth

    The “truth serum” was scotch and the “lie detector” was made from junkyard scraps. Max was playing along because of Jordan’s gun.

    The guy was completely off his nut.

    “Where is the microfilm, Max?”

    “Really? Microfilm?”

    Jordan lifted the gun.

    “I don’t have it!”

    “BEEEEP!” Jordan screeched, acting as the “lie” noise.

    “Anderson took it!”

    “I knew it!”

    Jordan shoved Max in a closet, locked the door, and went in search of “that damned traitor.”

    Max didn’t even know anyone named Anderson.

    “If I live through this,” Max said to the darkness, “I’m never going on a blind date again.”


    My week has been pretty good, the weather has improved drastically and I’ve been spending a lot of time outside with the dog 🙂

  11. 100 words

    I’m this week’s preferred topic of hushed conversations. The whispered punch line of callous jokes. The reason du jour for raised eyebrows. Last week I lost the Johnson, Johnson and Reinhardt account. You can imagine my worry when after lunch I was summoned to the corner office.

    “Sit”, the boss ordered. Remnant fumes of onions and freshly spit Listerine surfed the streams of his breath into the caves of my nostrils. “We’ve got to let you go, son. Or…”

    Or what?

    “….we’ve got to take a finger.”

    In this economy, the choice was easy. I gave my boss the finger.

    My week, like the bagel on my desk, is half gone.

  12. Dylyce P. Clarke
    I Can Save the World
    (100 words)

    Ethereal beauty twisted into grotesque mockeries of life. Cavorting creatures silenced by flesh-searing fallout. Majestic buildings blasted into skeleton-like rubble.

    Years of cowardly half-existence safe in this subterranean refuge spurred my research into reversing the devastation I’d caused.

    My hand rose to throw the contact in the barrel. I drank the elixir. The liquid tingled from my toes to the ends of my hair. When it reached my finger, I depressed the switch. Into my body flowed the radiation I’d released that had killed my world.

    Once again plant life rejoiced, animals danced, structures stood tall, people emerged.

    I died.

  13. “Ladies and gentlemen! Behold! In this bottle I have here is a recipe I have perfected over my lifetime. And I can give you my word – nay – promise you this gold nugget if my cure-all can not cure whatever your ailment is. Who will be first? You, sir? What ails you? Ah, I see you lost your right hand, you poor fellow. Well, well soon take care of that! Just place your hand in the device and drink this. The effects are immediate! Uhm O Well Haha I guess two left hands are better than two left feet, hey?      

    My week has been spent mostly doing research for my Camp Nanowrimo WIP, and writing a few non-fiction articles. Tonight, however, is allocated specifically to fiction!

  14. “Can you feel it now?”


    Jim turned the power up one click on the dial.

    “How about now?”

    “Well, it’s kinda startin’ to tingle” Harry knocked back the liquid courage Jim gave him. “Say, what’s in this?”

    “I told you, liquid courage” Jim kept his eyes glued to the monitors. Any minute now he’d have his answer.

    “Well, it ain’t like any booze I ever tasted”

    Harry looked at Jim, annoyed “Keep quiet.”

    Then, a small blip on the screen. Excitement widened Jim’s eyes.

    “What is it?” Harry asked

    “Just, don’t look at your arm”

    They had their weapon.

    My week? Started this new blog yesterday. Not much content yet but that’s coming soon!

  15. Desperate Measures


    Graham sipped the liquor cautiously. Would it be as good as before?

    Pure accident had revealed that adding pulped human (luckily Desmond hadn’t been missed) to a whisky mash generated a far greater potency than anyone had bargained for. It also created a strange addiction and, as it was soon noticed that the bodies in the morgue were disappearing, he and Donald had been reduced to more desperate measures. Both men had donated the limb or organ deemed the most useless and now, as Graham’s arm was cauterised, he savoured their latest distillation.

    But soon they’d have to choose again.

    Nearly at the end of the Easter break so back to work next week. In the meantime, a bit of writing (and a lot of self-doubt!), some editing for an anthology, and looking forward to celebrating my youngest’s 14th birthday tomorrow. 🙂

      • To be honest the first thing that crossed my mind was one of those pencil sharpeners you get at school where you shove the pencil in and turn the handle – but that would’ve been a bit bloody and taken more than 100 words!!

    • WHAT?! a writer with self-doubt??? 🙂 Keep at it–you are too good to let that pesky self-doubt defeat you. And happy birthday, not-so-Baby!

      • Thank you. Perked up a bit since then 🙂 I think we’re all the same, peaks and troughs. Birthday girl quite happy – oh to be 14 again!!

  16. Just A Swift Half

    ‘You want me to do WHAT?’
    ‘Put your arm in the hole.’
    ‘Put my arm in there?’
    ‘That’s it.’
    ‘But… why would I do that?’
    ‘To get the full sensation.’
    ‘And I keep it in there while I’m drinking?’
    ‘Now you’re getting it!’
    ‘This smells like apple juice.’
    ‘That’s right but with the added ingredient.’
    ‘Iron filings.’
    Iron filings?!? WHY?’
    ‘To create light-headedness and euphoria in conjunction with the waves.’
    ‘From the magnetics.’
    ‘Those doughnuts are magnets?’
    ‘Sure! You don’t seem familiar with this process.’
    ‘Familiar? I’ve never heard of it.’
    ‘But you…”
    ‘I asked for Magner’s Cider!’


    My week was at an all-time low – to misquote Bowie… Last chance to pull off a win in the second quarter of Micro Bookends – FAIL! A chance to win a Flash Dogs Golden Ticket at Micro Bookends – FAIL! A chance to win a Flash Dogs Golden Ticket at Flash! Friday – FAIL! A chance to participate in the inaugural Flash Dash! contest – SUCCESS in so far as I managed to submit in time but not feeling elated because I felt what I produced was drivel, ergo no Golden Ticket and no Flash! Friday coffee mug… Then, while keying this entry, I scrolled to the top of the page to check the rules and caught a glimpse of my name in BIG BOLD ORANGE letters… I won the Golden Ticket AND the Flash! Friday coffee mug?! Apparently what I wrote wasn’t totally dross after all. Just goes to show that flash fictioneers can be their own worst critic! So my week has taken a steep upward curve into the stratosphere. Thank you so much, Rebekah!
    [Does the coffee mug come with a tube of adhesive? It may be needed after a trip across the pond!]

    • Congratulations, Geoff! Loved your story for lots of reasons, some of which I listed at the top. And the first FF member to receive a mug is in the UK and his arrived just peachy, so I suspect yours will be fine too. (It’s wrapped in dragonfire, obv.) You’re a strong writer; never let the number of medals (or non-medals) define you! We believe in you, and if you start doubting, come back here and we’ll tell you again. 🙂

    • Congrats Geoff! You deserve a mug full of Magner’s Cider. I always enjoy your writing and your helpful comments. Thanks for that paragraph tip a while ago, it really helped my writing.

    • D’oh! “From the magnetics.” should be “From the magnets.” and, apparently “Magner’s” should be “Magners” even though it’s not grammatical.
      (Try reading it in an Irish accent.)

    • “… what I produced was drivel.”

      Ah–a phrase well-known to, oft muttered by gifted writers. I always look forward to reading your stuff.

  17. Emily Clayton

    Beware the Glow

    “Why does my arm have to stay in this tube?”

    A peculiar gleam flicked across Dr. Unger’s face. “Oh, just a precaution.” He returned to his panel, prodding an array of buttons. His moves were erratic; thick calloused fingers, like those of a man who spilled blood in the fields, stumbled across the screen.

    “Precaution? You said it would heal my tension.” The tumbler, with its clear, silky liquid and faint lavender aroma, now seemed to hide a sinister tang.

    Dr. Unger flicked a switch, the device pulsing to life. His eyes were aglow. “People do silly things … when attacked.”

    • haha! what a fantastically creepy ending. And I really love the description of the potion, silky with a faint lavender aroma… I’d probably buy a bottle!

  18. Taking the Piss

    “You’re absolutely certain this will work?”
    “Ok, well then bottoms up.”

    Bert took a hearty swig of the concoction. It made his eyes water. The scientists scurried, taking their precious readings. This had to work, it was the only thing that would save his marriage. He could already feel it’s magic coursing through his veins. His wife would be thrilled.

    The men in white coats conferred quietly in the corner. They must be impressed with the results, they were all smiling. Thankfully he couldn’t hear them.

    “Subject 53 has consumed the cow urine placebo, seems to believe it’s working…”

    100 words
    Our kitchen reno is in full swing now, which means a house full of strangers that keep smashing things down or building them up again. Apparently they are charging me for this privilege. Some of them are charging an arm and a leg, I think our plumber may actually be a Kardashian based on the hourly rate. At the end of all of this we will have a shiny new kitchen, which in no time at all will be smeared in baby food and dog slobber. By then though we will have no doubt moved on to ripping out our lime green jacuzzi tub…

    • JUST WRONG. WRONG, WRONG. –though of course, this placebo may not be much different from what we buy off the shelves anyway. I shudder to think what’s hidden in our foods….

      Very sorry for the current disaster. You’re sure you don’t want to go back in time and do the renovations BEFORE moving in??

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