Best 10 word story

The show was fabulous; the leading lady would be his… forever!

Mr Leonard

If this machine works, this sentence will end abrubt…

Milzo

Lottery millionare has firework party but accidently burns his ticket.

Charlotte G.

Magical land, friendly fawn and evil witch… through the wardrobe.

Adam M.

Little boy sells cow for magic beans. Kills Giant.

Year 1, St Just Primary

My dad went hunting. Shot deer. Shot his foot. Owwwww!

Dylay Fletcher

Small boy vs. giant monster! SPLAT!!! Ouch!! Bye bye boy!

SA

David Perkins shot into the goal. Stockport County had won!

Stockport Are My Life

We snored. We were bored. They scored. We roared.

Alasdair G.

A small boy, lightning scar, unusual school… Lots of magic!

Charlotte S.

We’re going to scare some people tonight. Mwuhaha! Roar!

Lachlan F.

Gets up, saves world and goes back to bed.

MB and BA

Cannibal ate little Red. «Little girls taste good!» he bellowed.

Henry

Another Sports Day with mean gym teacher. Banana guy arrives!

Anna M.

Stupid time traveller sees himself engulfed in blood yesterday.

Felix Diamond

Yeeaah Bingo! Finally. Darn it, wrong number!

QTip

KABOOM!! I’ll never press that button again. What’s that?! KABOOM!!

Essy 11

Poor boy finds ticket and goes to factory. The End!

MB and BA

With long hair you can escape the castle.

Katie

A cottage in the woods. A mysterious death.

Liam L.

Tom walked in. «The game is on,» he whispered.

Fraser S.

A factory, a boy and a golden ticket. What next?

Carlie C.

A basement… but is Dad human?

Alice G.

Little kids eat candy house… Oh no it’s the witch!

CN

I wrote a line of tripe, then put THE END.

Jack

World War III. Nuclear missiles launched globally. Bombs explode. Annihilation.

Mr Scott

«Mmm rabbit stew. Come on Fluffy, into the pot…»

battygirl83

Three children; one horrible uncle; a forced marriage…

Eilidh M.

Deep in the dark woods, mystery bear kills father…

Bailey F.

Comets, sun, moon, planets, black holes, interesting journey…

Rachael M.

Tried on my girlfriend’s engagement ring and now it’s stuck!

Megan

Kid does chores. Comes out bad.

Ewan

Mouse meets three animals then meets Gruffalo.

Tom

A girl, rat, dodo and dragon… on an adventure.

Kayleigh M.

Twin sisters… but one has fangs!

Lucy M.

Willy Wonka opens chocolate factory. Golden ticket wins all.

Kevin M.

Wolf tried to blow down house of bricks — bad luck!

Year 1, St Just Primary

Girl in red cloak visits gran with big teeth.

Fraser M.

«AHHH… ALIENS! WHY US?!»

Emma

Pink sky, green grass, blue sea, you see…

Fraser RT

Wolf eats granny. Man with axe kills wolf.

Rhys

Henry was locked in a castle, but Jago rescued him.

Stan

Aliens invade, humans die.

HS

Three kids kill ogre — save the world before tea!

Alex

                                    
                                          
Hey guys in this contest you need to make up a bollywood story which conveys the whole context of the story in just 10 words!!! 
                          
You just need to write:
                          
Bollywood couple:(the couples name that u want as your stories character-their name)
Mood:
The 10 word story:
Your name:
Tag my name,and put the title as 10 word story contest...
                          
You can post this in you book and please don't forget to tag my name or then your entry will not be accepted!
                          
The deadline is 20th August Saturday.
I want all you entries before 2oth august and I will post the winners by Sunday or Monday... You have 4 full days to think and write so I hope I get good romantic bollywood stories and I hope I get more people to participate!!😊
                          
Just comment 'I'm Joining' in the comment box and please tag any 2 of your friends who are interested in participating in this contest...
                          
All the best👍
Have fun writing and seeya till the next chapter!




  


                       
  




                                  

This is a guest post by Rebecca Henderson.

Recently, I came across a contest with a word limit of ten words. That’s right, just ten words! I wanted to share with you some techniques I used to make the most impact and possibly win the prize. Here are a few of my first attempts:

Attempt #1:

She waited.

He called.

They talked.

Silence. His breath caught.

Attempt #2:

Doorbell. Sweet intent. Lies in waiting? Hysteria. The world awaits.

Technique #1: Verbs

If I could write a story that used action, then that would be a good vehicle for plot. After all, the majority of stories have to have something going on in them! So I knew that I had to use verbs, and most often they need subjects. The other thing I knew I could bank on was a familiar activity. If readers can take the limited cues you give them and recreate a scene in their head, then half the work is already done. People call each other because text won’t cut it and seeing each other is (sometimes) not an option. So, when someone calls you, there is an issue at hand to be resolved. The breath-catching part creates a bit of suspense, and I think that the “she” waiting and then “his breath” catching makes a good foundation for conflict. Readers wonder, what was said during the call.

Technique #2: Vignettes

I tried to go more visceral in my second attempt. Again, the doorbell sets up a familiar scenario, but what is “sweet intent”? And “lies in waiting” . . . what sort of meaning of ‘lies’ is implied? So, ambiguity and mystery helped me here as well to create suspense and curiosity in the reader. Hysteria is an emotion, a very powerful one, that I think baffles many people. The final sentence, while a bit dramatic, captures that unanswered question of “what happens next?

I decided to have another go.

Attempt #3:

Grocery store. Mass chaos. Baby food aisle. Matriarchs duel: life.

Technique #3:

This one packs in a lot of drama. First off, the grocery store establishes the setting, and chaos shows the mood. We are taken to the baby food aisle, where mothers are fighting. What kind of life are they fighting for? Food is life, or rather, sustenance, but babies also represent life, as in the continuation of a species.

My intent with this last ten-word story was to show place/setting, mood, conflict, and then an overarching theme. I’m unsure if conclusion is possible in this ten-word limit, but I could be wrong! I think a ten-word story might end with the reader going back and searching for more clues as to what happened. Whether they find answers or not depends on your word choice and intent.

Conclusion

I haven’t added in my submission here, but I do think it would be interesting to hear what your techniques are for challenges with very short word lengths, and how, if at all, you see such a focus on word choice affecting your lengthier works. Do you pick and choose words for a longer piece like you might for this competition?

---

Rebecca Henderson holds a Master’s in German and a Bachelor’s in Creative Writing. She is a freelance editor, proofreader, and beta reader for hire; to find more information, go to www.thekreativspace.wordpress.com. Best expressing herself through the written word, she enjoys the smell of burning rubber and can recite the ABC’s of the automotive world upon command. Rebecca hopes to shift your world perspective through her words, because looking out the same window every day hardly makes for an interesting life.

Between 5-paragraph essays, speeches, and Scull essays, Fay’s Upper School students have regular opportunities to write at length, but ultra-short writing presents a different kind of creative challenge.

Back

Illustration by Anirban Ghosh

TOWARDS FREEDOM (1st Prize)

«Jana gana mana …» The schoolboy squirmed. Another two minutes? He knew he should stand at attention. The drillmaster’s cane loomed large.»Vindhya Himachal …»He grunted in discomfort. This was unbearable. He considered making a dash; after all he was in the last row. What if the master noticed? The cane loomed again. He gritted his teeth.»Tava shubha …»This is it. He cast his eyes around.»Jaya he …»He started running.»Jaya he …»He was almost there.»Jaya he …»The chorus floated from afar. He was already in the toilet, heaving a relieved sigh.

—Subramaniam Mohan, Chennai

THE WINDOW (2nd Prize)

On a windy winter morning, a woman looked out of the window.The only thing she saw, a garden. A smile spread across her face as she spotted Maria, her daughter, in the middle of the garden enjoying the weather. It started drizzling. Maria started dancing joyfully.She tried to wave to her daughter, but her elbow was stuck, her arm hurt, her smile turned upside down. Reality came crashing down as the drizzle turned into a storm. Maria’s murdered corpse consumed her mind.On a windy winter morning, a woman looked out of the window of her jail cell.

—Saanchi Wadhwa, New Delhi

IDENTITY CRISIS (3rd Prize)

The country was on fire. Communal riots had paralyzed most of the state. Reyaz, with the help of a friend, got a fake identity card—his new name was Rakesh—and booked a ticket to Aligarh. The ticket checker on the train asked for his identification—Reyaz nervously showed the one he had recently procured. He seemed satisfied and Reyaz heaved a sigh of relief.At Aligarh there was none to fear. «Assalamu alaikum,» said Reyaz to ward off a group of enraged people. The angriest of them, with bloodshot eyes, approached Reyaz and asked for his identity card.

—Junaid H. Nahvi, New Delhi

LEERING LOTHARIO (4th Prize)

She peered over the open magazine, and there he was, still staring at her, disconcertingly. For the past 30 minutes, she’d endured his irritating attention. Time to call airport security. The burly cop strode in purposefully, with a sleek Alsatian on leash. «Sir, there’s been a complaint. I need you to come with me. Quietly, please,» he growled. The leather-jacketed man didn’t move a muscle. His hands were rock-steady on the trolley handle in front of him. The cop waited for a minute, and then reached out to handcuff the Ray-Ban-wearing guy. The hands were locked in rigor mortis.

—Ed Sudhir, Bengaluru

LOVE ACTUALLY

«Do you believe in shooting stars?» she asked.»Do you?»»There is no harm, is there?» She paused. «I’d love to sit in the balcony amidst all the flowerpots and watch the busy world go by.»He said nothing. She needed no assurance, no promise. She squawked a reply when they asked if she was ready to go back to her room. It would be another 10 minutes before the duty nurse wheeled him away.She had laughed at the last tooth he had lost. He had teased her about the silver hair at the back of her sweater.

—Maya Davi Chalissery, Thrissur, Kerala

A BROKEN PROMISE

Hearing a knock on the door,  she hustled towards it with her  little feet, her lips uncloaking the cutest smile and her voice singing, «Daddy’s home!» Her mum, glued to the news channels for the past week, approached the door hesitantly and opened it with trepidation.Two men in military uniform were standing at the doorstep. One of them handed her an envelope with a mournful expression, adding plaintively, «We’re sorry, Mrs Bhatt.»»Where’s my dad, Uncle? He promised we’ll celebrate Diwali together this time,» exclaimed the girl. They stared helplessly, with a lump in their throats and moistened eyes.

—Aditi Sharma, New Delhi

MEETING THE ONE

They met at a cafe, stealing glances at each other while the parents  spoke animatedly.They remained silent throughout, only exchanging shy smiles while ordering snacks at the counter.Returning with the food, he moved to the head of the table to get a good look at her.Noticing his manoeuvre, she smiled down at her coffee, making him beam like a proud schoolboy.When the two families parted at the end of the meeting, he rushed back to the cafe, praying that the girl, who had been at the table behind theirs all afternoon, would still be there.

—Preyanka Paswan, New Delhi

HUMANKIND

It was pouring, as I entered a  nearby porch.Out of the blue, a kid startled me from behind—I panicked and scampered away. His father asked him not to scare anyone.After some initial hiccups we became good friends. I often visited their house, ate with them.One day, while I was slurping down the milk, a man entered their portico, begging for food.The father yelled at him and pushed him out of the entrance.I was terrified, and in a jiffy, I ran away screaming, «Meow! Meow …»

—Aswin R. S., Chennai

RED SAND

Border guard Melissa Walter fumed, «Madam President’s lost it.» A new batch was arriving. The count had crossed 10,000. «As if the country doesn’t have enough mouths to feed.»Officer Gerald was off-duty, so here she was, about to ‘welcome’ refugees. The boat arrived. She pasted on her best professional smile.So many people, all skinny and gaunt. Teary, scared eyes, with a weak gait. Clinging to the elders, the children walked on.»Look!» a boy exclaimed, dropping down. «The sand is so soft here. It’s not red. Can I touch, Mama?» he pleaded.Melissa stood still, stunned into silence.

—Geetha M., Kanchipuram

WHAT, SERIOUSLY?

Varun called his friend over to his house. When he arrived, he told him he had to speak to him about a problem. They both went up to Varun’s room.»What is it?» asked the friend. «I think I am having an identity crisis,» said Varun.»What do you mean?» asked his friend.»MOOOOOO!» he bellowed like a cow.His friend stood frozen, in stunned silence. Varun burst out laughing, «I was just kidding!»»Are you sure? Because we just ran out of milk,» came the reply.

—Aditi Ashok, Chennai

THE GOODBYE

Out jogging, I saw two elderly women hugging each other and weeping inconsolably. The women had been good friends, living in adjacent apartments on the ground floor, for years.One of them was now having to shift to the fifth floor, as the house owner wished to undertake major maintenance work.Since there were no lifts in the building, she would be carried upstairs, unable to come down—ever again. Her friend, just as frail, would not be able to visit her upstairs either. Accepting the inevitability of their permanent separation, the poor dears said their final goodbyes.

—Deepak Nair, Thiruvananthapuram

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE

As a married couple, they led a charmed life. Jantu had his own circle of friends and Tulu had hers. And every morning they exchanged and savoured their previous day’s experiences over breakfast. Jantu was not immune to the seven-year-itch, though. The days he strayed were few and far between. Faithful Tulu was quietly accommodating. On the nights he slipped, Jantu would indicate it by skipping his daily apple at breakfast.That morning, Jantu was devastated to see Tulu’s favourite pear was left untouched.

—K. L. Narayanan, Bengaluru

THE UGLY TRUTH

«Hello,» said the figure cloaked in darkness.»Who are you?» I asked.»I am that which you fear the most,» it said to me and stepped into the light.What I saw next sent me into a paroxysm of fear. There stood a creature most hideous: twisted body, gnarled fingers, with a semblance of what might have once been a face. Chillingly revealing a gaping hole where its heart should have been, spilling oily blackness.Overcome with revulsion and trembling in horror, I fell to my knees.»I am you,» said the creature.

—Vaishnavi R. Krishna, Thiruvananthapuram

MUMMIFIED

During our visit to Egypt’s Alexandria National Museum, I took my five-year-old son to the basement to see a mummy and started explaining what it was. Confused, he bolted from the room and rushed to his mother, who was busy chatting with other tourists.He told my wife breathlessly, «Mum! Dad just showed me another mummy. He is looking at her.»Surprised, my wife followed him to the basement. She sized up the situation instantly and retorted, «Oh! Mummy is a daddy.»Confused, sonny asked innocently, «If mummy is the daddy, then who is the mummy’s mummy?»

—Dhananjay Sinha, Kolkata

STREET SMART

It was 9 a.m., 26 January. The politician’s car, on the way to the flag-hoisting ceremony, stopped at a red light. A 10-year-old street vendor came running to the car and waved the tricolour, hoping that selling one more flag will help him buy some vada pav. With no intention of buying, the politician rolled down the window and smirked, «Today you are selling the national flag. On other days, I have seen you sell toys, umbrellas and kites. Is there anything you have not sold so far?»»Our country,» the boy retorted at once.

—Kalpesh Sheth, Mumbai

All entries have been edited for clarity. They were graded on grammar, language, originality, plot device and storytelling technique by RD editors, basis which the winning entries were selected. Winners will receive book prizes, courtesy HarperCollins Publishers India.