In my previous post, I revealed a technique I've offered many times to writing groups I've led to help overcome writer's block: Find an unusual or inspirational piece of artwork -- it can be a drawing, photograph, or painting -- and create a story behind the image. You can find inspirational artwork in magazines or through an image search on Google. It's a fun exercise that will stimulate your imagination and boost your creativity. Here's a fun piece of flash fiction I did for this image below:
The Wishing Well
Jimmy and Tommy raced across the electron field. They ran several kilometers until they passed the remains of the Arcturian spacecraft that had crashed onto their planet decades before either of the boys had been born. They reached the abandoned, dilapidated shack where the crash’s sole survivor had lived out his days, before dying alone and undiscovered, in the wooden hovel.
“The bucket’s still where we left it,” Timmy cried out.
“Of course it is, you geezbar,” Tommy replied. “No one ever comes out here.”
“Tie the rope to it and we can lower it into the hole again.”
“Where do you think the hole leads to?” Tommy asked, as he knotted the rope around the metal pail.
Jimmy shrugged and his antennae bent 90 degrees. “Beats me. Maybe it goes to the core of the planet.”
“But what about all the neat stuff we’ve pulled back?”
“Yeah, that’s true. Every time we’ve lowered it, it seems to land somewhere different.”
“I think it’s a hole in the space-time continuum. We studied that in school last week.” He pointed to the alien skeleton seated in a rickety wood rocking chair in the corner. “I bet he was stranded here but found a way to cut a hole into wherever he came from and get stuff from back home.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Jimmy concluded. “One us will sit on the bucket and the other can lower him down.”
Tommy shuffled his feet and his tail twitched, sweeping away the nearby electrons. “I don’t know about that, Jimmy. Unless you want to go down and I’ll lower the rope.”
Now it was Jimmy’s turn to be uneasy. “What if there’re monsters down there? What if the rope breaks? You should be the one to sit on the pail – you’re lighter.”
Tommy shook his head. “Nah, let’s go play in the quantum matter particles instead. They raced out the door of the dilapidated shack, leaving the ancient explorer alone with his last, tenuous link to Earth.
©2011 Keith B. Darrell
Jimmy and Tommy raced across the electron field. They ran several kilometers until they passed the remains of the Arcturian spacecraft that had crashed onto their planet decades before either of the boys had been born. They reached the abandoned, dilapidated shack where the crash’s sole survivor had lived out his days, before dying alone and undiscovered, in the wooden hovel.
“The bucket’s still where we left it,” Timmy cried out.
“Of course it is, you geezbar,” Tommy replied. “No one ever comes out here.”
“Tie the rope to it and we can lower it into the hole again.”
“Where do you think the hole leads to?” Tommy asked, as he knotted the rope around the metal pail.
Jimmy shrugged and his antennae bent 90 degrees. “Beats me. Maybe it goes to the core of the planet.”
“But what about all the neat stuff we’ve pulled back?”
“Yeah, that’s true. Every time we’ve lowered it, it seems to land somewhere different.”
“I think it’s a hole in the space-time continuum. We studied that in school last week.” He pointed to the alien skeleton seated in a rickety wood rocking chair in the corner. “I bet he was stranded here but found a way to cut a hole into wherever he came from and get stuff from back home.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Jimmy concluded. “One us will sit on the bucket and the other can lower him down.”
Tommy shuffled his feet and his tail twitched, sweeping away the nearby electrons. “I don’t know about that, Jimmy. Unless you want to go down and I’ll lower the rope.”
Now it was Jimmy’s turn to be uneasy. “What if there’re monsters down there? What if the rope breaks? You should be the one to sit on the pail – you’re lighter.”
Tommy shook his head. “Nah, let’s go play in the quantum matter particles instead. They raced out the door of the dilapidated shack, leaving the ancient explorer alone with his last, tenuous link to Earth.
©2011 Keith B. Darrell
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