The Tryst - Second Campaign Challenge

Using four of the prompts, doing a flash fiction, a pitch or logline,  an inspired poem.

Additionally, 
attempting three of the  activities tied by a common theme,
in a genre never before attempted,
and requesting a critique.


Flash Fiction

All that was left was to wait it out.

He stared at her, elegant looking despite the wet hair from the drizzle that caught them unprepared. Shooing away the starving kids at the garbage dumps hadn’t been easy, grim remainders of his past. He shifted his leg stump away from the jetting rails of what had once been the bridge of Bridgewater town. The pain would resurface soon making travel a nightmare.

The message had been delivered, the bird in his trap, dawn bringing the well earned reward. He day dreamed of the golden patterns, enjoyable side effects of the pain killing serum.

In a happier time reflected in her grandfather’s picture in the burlap, the sneak would have a name not just a number. The one who had foreseen the rise of Stonia, now something evoking fear and despondency was long dead but the movement he co-founded was alive in the hidden depths. She often wondered what had turned the still beautiful woman into the epitome of sadism.

Eric, she felt an ache at the very sound... this pathetic human staring at her brought her closer to the goal, the mission’s success hanging on his ignorance.

wc 198

Pitch/Logline

 In a world bereft of most natural resources, the International Council rules with an iron fist. The  self labelled high priestess and sadist Stonia, the true wielder of power ruthlessly mows any opposition. But the MOB, an underground resistance plots her demise, their reluctant assassin, the unassuming Charlotte, granddaughter of one of the founders,

A simple plan that needs only an image and the medical skills of the widow of the previous leader, finds her embroiled in a moral conflict that could sabotage the mission and destroy the movement...

Wc 89

Poem - Form 'Ode'

Grey cloaks the land,

Where once walked the green maiden

Lovely and captivating visions she spun.

The birds sang, the river hummed

the mad wind whistled in passing.

Happy faces, laughing eyes, scampering feet

were not yet yellowing postcard smiles.

She stood there, straight backed yet unsure,

taking in the detail,

stilling the mind and heart

with the skilled hands of years past.

The expectations weighed

heavy on her chest.

The spirit never truly waned nor wavered

until she met her,

The mother who could have been hers.

For the Rach Writes' Second Campaigner Challenge

Prompt 1: 
Two people are sitting together under the remains of a concrete bridge. Their backs are against a rusted bridge support. One person’s leg is cut. The other person has wet hair. 

Four picture prompts.

Do one or more of the following:

1. Write a pitch/logline for a book based on the prompts (less than 100 words)
2. Write a short story/flash fiction piece of less than 200 words based on the prompts
3. Write a poem with a twist using the prompts as inspiration (in less than 200 words)
4. Write a story/poem in five sentences, each sentence based on one of the prompts
5. Write a poem/flash fiction piece (in less than 200 words) about the water pear *without* using the words “pear”, “spoon”, or “droplet”.

For added difficulty/challenge:

• Complete at least three of the above activities and tie them all together with a common theme (feel free to either state the theme in your post or leave us to guess what it might be)
• Write in a genre that is not your own
• Ask Challenge entrants to critique your writing.