• 03:35:51 pm on November 30, 2011 | 12
    Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

    Tuesday Tales Round 17 WINNER!


    Challenge #17

     By entering, every contestant agrees to shamelessly promote and praise the winner on twitter.

    For all discussions about this challenge use hash tag #TuesdayTales

    This Weeks Tuesday Tales Judge is: 


    climbingtothelight blog

    Environmental consultant/ fantasy writer/ mother of the future Emperor of the Universe,
     hailing from south east England.
    You may also remember her as a TWO TIME CHamp of Tuesdaytales

    Honorable Mentions:

    BEST USE OF JUDGES WORD – @surlymuse – “But then he panicked. Stumbled to the car. It wouldn’t turn over. What a twist, he thought.”

    I liked the way this author played with the concept of a twist in the story, first with the car not starting when he changed his mind, but then with a second one where life delivered a final kick in the pants on his back up plan. I envisaged a man who didn’t really want to die so much as make a grand statement for his ex-wife’s benefit, but then her being so broken by the divorce that she decided that she just couldn’t face Christmas. A story with lots to read between the lines.


     Nice description of a hopeless situation, and just when you think it can’t get any worse, we find out what he is eating to survive. Shudder.


    Interesting use of second person tense,  and a great depiction of someone who thinks the cold is their biggest problem but in trying to escape it, ends up in a situation so bad, they want the cold to take them. What is she going to do?


    A shocking story that shows the thing that scares us most about zombies – that they started out as people you know, but now they want to eat you. The final sentence was the one that made this one stand out. Are the survivors in just as much danger from the man inside?






    Ruler of #MenageMonday flashfiction challenge
    & Now  TWO time winner of #tuesdaytales
    challenge 6  winner & Today!

    Per the judgemaster:  

    Strong imagery and a palpable sense of menace won this one for me. The trees bending together like leafy gossips was a wonderful image and the thought of having to lay still when it’s you or your friend and every instinct in you is screaming to run gave me the shivers. A great entry.


    “The trees are moving.”

    Covey watched the trees twist and rustle, heads bending together like leafy gossips. The sky darkened as night approached with more snow.

    “We made it this far.” I dug at the snow with my red, frozen hands. “Keep digging. We’ll get the door clear and get inside.”


    “It’s just the wind, Covey.” I lied and we both knew it.

    The trees groaned and shifted. The ground trembled. Covey fell hard against the hangar.

    “Oh, God. It’s back.”

    He ran.

    I froze, closing my eyes when Covey screamed.

    It always went for moving prey first.

    100 words

    CaraMichaels go fetch your badge of awesomeness at the top while tuesdaytalians speak of your writerly prowess far and wide!

    You can check out all the rest of the entries of Tuesdaytales week 17 HERE

    OR check out the archive of all the tuesdaytales to escort you to your tuesdaytales needs HERE


    Way to go everyone and I would like to give a special shout out to 100 words of Nano… it is after all the last day of celebrating the awesomeness that was writing 50k in month: We have a couple of nice ones with a sweet one and ending on a crazy eat your heart out surgeons… literally.

    A bridleway stood to the left of the road, embraced by the gentle curves of a flowing brook, the blushing colours of the sky crisscrossed by the bare frames of the overhanging trees.
    Betty felt Edward guide her towards the secluded path. This was the first chance they’d really had to talk, well, at least with him sober. She couldn’t really count the walk back from Westminster Bridge. He probably only remembered half of it.
    Unfortunately, now given the opportunity to talk freely, Betty couldn’t think of a thing to ask. Other than asking whether he wanted to kiss her.


    Mike threw open the doors to the OR only to see his wife laid out on the operating room table with Dante’s Inferno surrounding her. On the floor a nurse and an orderly were coupling, their moans of pleasure drowning out the feast that was taking place above them.

    “They’re…eating my wife! Stop them!” Without waiting, Mike rushed to attack the surgical staff that he had hired to help save Ellen’s life. Blinded by his fury that lent strength to his arms like he had never experienced before, he launched into the surgeon, tearing his head completely off his torso.




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