We had a brilliant response to our 100 Word Challenge. A huge ‘thank you’ to all who took part, we hope you enjoyed it. It was very difficult choosing the final ten and we had to use an external judge to do it! The final 10 can be read below.
Please read the stories and vote (click on the heading above to access the voting form and make sure you scroll down to the bottom of the form and click on Submit!)
“If you don’t row that boat, I’m going to fire this gun!” he shouted. So much for a quiet afternoon fly fishing, now I was involved in a bank robber’s grand escape! As I took a deep breath, determined to keep calm, the Werther’s Original I’d been enjoying was drawn down the back of my throat. I gasped and spluttered, turning exceedingly puce. The bank robber slapped my back hard and the sweet shot out and hit an approaching policeman in the eye. No word of a lie, the robber laughed so much he staggered giddily into waiting handcuffs!
Last summer my family went camping. When we got to the campsite we built our tents in a row. Daddy took me fly fishing, to catch a fish for our dinner. We caught two fishes and cooked them on our camp fire. After dinner we went for a lie down and slept through the night. In the morning when I woke up I could hear the birds singing a sweet tune.
In the dead of night only the sliver of moonlight gave respite from the darkness. The absolute silence made them feel alone. They knew they only had one chance and had to do everything right – first time.
Quietly, they crept into the boat and were told to lie down.They began to row carefully across the lake. The only sound was the dip of the oars into the deep water. Then disaster struck! The beast awoke and began to fly towards them breathing fire. Chaos reigned but somehow they managed to escape and finally experienced the sweet taste of freedom.
Everyone knows time travel isn’t possible. That’s how Billy and Emily ended up having a row at the bus stop.
“I HAVE travelled back in time!” shouted Billy, “I showed cavemen how to make fire, and gave them sweet marshmallows to enjoy.”
“Prove it” said Emily, furiously, “I’ll tell everyone what a big fat lie this is!”
The bus stop started to shudder.
The bus stop started to…
They saw all of history from their bus stop, from the Roman Empire to the moon landing….
…and Emily believed. She apologised to Billy.
But everyone knows time travel isn’t possible….right?
Pippin longed for freedom. He didn’t want to lie anymore in a neat row with his fellow apple slices. Could he fly clear of the pastry and the sweet, sticky fruit jam? Quick! Chef had his oven gloves on: The cooking that would seal his fate as part of the luscious tart was imminent! He closed his eyes and puffed his cheeks and prayed hard. As the pudding was pushed into the oven, somehow the searing heat and intense ambition combined to fire Pippin clear of the tart into a wondrous heaven; a place where a slice could be himself.
The firefly was hungry and set off to his favourite sweet flowers.
Behind him, he spotted a pack of fireflies. He shouted, ‘There are no sweet flowers here, turn left at the palm.’
The pack flew off – the firefly sniggered.
Suddenly – CRASH!
He was stuck in a web!
Hours later, the pack returned.
‘HELP!’ he shouted.
‘Help, YOU! But you told a lie!’ the pack shouted.
‘Sorry – I don’t want to row. Please help and I’ll show you where the flowers are.’
The pack untangled the remorseful firefly.
They all went to the flowers…..and he never lied again.
It all started one starry night, nothing to be heard and nothing in sight, but the insects in the deep dark forest.
No lights to be seen. Then out it popped, surrounded by a hundred of them or maybe more, lighting up the trees like the stars in the sky.
Beautiful they were, some in a row, some buzzing around. But the glow on this little guy, the sweet little firefly.
As I lie beneath the sky, I watch it flutter by and by.
The sweet beautiful little firefly.
I’m anxious. I stare into the fire, the flames playing with my mind. My loved ones lie asleep upstairs. My head is spinning after hearing the news. I have to go! I run like the wind, stealthily gathering my tools, and fly out of the door. Through the darkness, I run fast, breathless then arrive at the edge of the loch. Calmness takes over; I get in my boat and row gently through the still water and arrive at my destination. At last I cannot help but smile with the realisation that the sweet smell of success will be mine!
The sweet scent of marshmallows propels through the air and drifts into my nostrils. Slowly being cooked by the roaring fire, the marshmallows, soft, squishy, mellow in the middle, are pure delights.The wisps of candyfloss fly above the fire and are burnt to mere specks of pinkish dust. The cold night air slices my rosy cheeks, and sends a shiver racing down my spine; as i lie down onto the lush grass that gently brushes against my face.
A boat in the misty distance. I row it, take it to mystical places far away from this world.
Running, running fast from the lie. Getting harder to escape since they took away the ability to fly. Must – keep – on – running. Back in the house the fire burns brightly warming the small group gathered after the row. Silence provides solace after the anger earlier and too many mischosen words. I burst through the door out of the night. Breathing hard having run to near exhaustion. I can’t speak, I jerk my finger at the night, trying to make the others understand.
6 o’clock alarm punctuates the nightmare. Sweet dreams … again.