Hello All! We’re trying something a bit different around here. Normally, we present opportunities for fiction writers to self-promote and readers to recommend what they’ve read/written and then we share links to those already written works of fiction with our readers.
But here at Top in Fiction we are not just in the business of sharing fiction, we are also in the business of inspiring you to write as well! So, whether you’re a pro and looking for a challenge or a beginning looking for a place to get your creative juices flowing, use StoryStack to help you out!
Learn all there is to know about StoryStack here.
IMAGE1 PROMPT
THE OBJECTIVE
Use the image above as inspiration to write your own story of any length. Whether you enjoy free-writing or giving yourself rules to follow, the choice is up to you. Just as long as you write those words!
THE CHALLENGE
Looking for a bit of a challenge and a chance to have your story featured on our TiF Press website? Then write a StoryStack using the image above. Be sure to label your story with “[StoryStack]” either before or after your story and which Method you used!
NOTE: In order to have your story appear on TiF Press you MUST copy/paste your ENTIRE story in the comments. Leaving a link to your story renders your story ineligible.
SHARE YOUR WORK
Whichever path you decide to take, make sure you leave a comment sharing your story with us, other fellow writers, and our amazing reading audience.
All images used: Unsplash / Pexels / Pixabay. We DO NOT use AI generated images.
Storystack (Continuation Method)
*I promise, you’ll leave this place.* [6]
She left, I was too weak to stop her. The wet slap of bare feet echoed in the darkness, quieter and quieter as she retreated. [25]
It felt like a lie. The damp concrete offered nothing but thievery, it stole her warmth. I gave all I had, until there was nothing left to share. Now she is empty of it, cold and gone. The darkness used to be comfort, but now it feels like a prison. [50]
They hadn’t sent anyone into the Hole in so long. I starved. For her. She starved too, at first, until I gave her the soft meats. I held my breath for her. I dulled my teeth when they dared creep toward her sleeping form. Now there was only emptiness for us both.
I almost gave in, almost chased. Hunger can only be abated for so long.
A metallic creak and a rush of fresh air interrupted the space.
*Come. Let’s find our captors.*
A black mass slithered from the decrepit bunker, folding seamlessly into the shadow of the emaciated woman. [100]
181 Words.
It’s An Open Door
A Story Stack: The Separation Method
Prompt by: 📓 Fiction First: Behind Every Door #8
Picture Prompt
6 words
Sammy stood silently, shifting sore scapula.
25 words
Sonya picked her way through the rubble. Lifting a brick, some fingers started moving. They formed a hand puppet and focused their attention on Sonya.
50 words
“I think I see something,” 10 year old Jenny said as she placed a foot on the bike pedal.
Timmy walked up to the door. “It’s just a chair.”
“Not the chair. Something near back. I see eyes.”
Timmy squinted.
The roar was loud as Jenny pedaled for her life.
100 words
“Is it salvageable?”
Courtney stood in the doorway shining her flashlight about the interior. “Not sure why you would want to,” she commented. “There is quite a junk pile in here.”
“But is it salvageable?”
“It looks kinda rough but all the parts are still together on the outside.” Courtney walked further into the darkness sending a rat scurrying deeper into the shadows. Her light reflected off the windshield. “It will be hard to find parts but I could make a go of this Model T.”
Sandra clapped her hands. “Then let's get her home,” she said with a smile.
150 words
“Rustic they called it,” observed Ben sadly.
“They were being kind,” reflected Marie.
"It looks like a warzone around here.”
“I wonder why Uncle Pete left it to us on the provision that we have to stay one night.”
“It’s not like one of those horror stories where something is waiting inside is it?”
Marie looked at Ben and said, “Let’s get this over with.” She stepped through the door. “It’s like this is a dumping ground," she reflected. “Ooh,” she called out in a reverential tone.
“Everything okay?” asked Ben as he peered into the darkness from the bright sunshine of the street.
“Better than ok. Wait until you see this!”
Ben stepped into the shadows. He whistled. “It’s a wonder that painting is still hanging here with the door open.”
“It says Picasso.”
“No one else knows, do they?”
“They laughed at us,” Marie said with a smile.