Wikirandom Writers Challenge – April

And now for a bit of fun and creative engagement! As mentioned a couple of weeks ago, it’s my privilege to host the April Wikirandom Writers Challenge, created in February by the Shabby-Chic and Sarcastic Laird Sapir. Thanks to the talented Sara Walpert Foster for passing the baton onto me after the March Challenge.

The Wikirandom Challenge basically involves writing a 3-sentence piece of flash fiction incorporating a phrase I’ve picked out after hitting Wikipedia’s ‘random article’ button. Fun, huh?

The Rules: You must use the prompt in a sentence. Post your three-sentence story below in the comments area by the end of Friday 20 April. (If you’re in Australia, you have until Saturday afternoon…). I will announce the winner on Saturday.

The Prompt: Wooden Wings

I’ve been looking forward to this, because the first two challenges have resulted in some fabulous entertainment. It’s amazing how many different ways you can interpret a single phrase. Can’t wait to read all the responses!

(If you are curious, the Wikipedia article to inspire the prompt was Avro 549 Aldershot.)

37 thoughts on “Wikirandom Writers Challenge – April

  1. She hated tchotskies, the way that they sat sadly, gathering dust. Most of them ended up in the box headed to the Salvation Army, but there was one that she couldn’t bring herself to give away. Something about the face of the little figurine with the wooden wings hurt her heart, and she hesitated only a moment before placing him in her pocket.


  2. He securely fixed the wooden wings to his arms, and looked out over the abyss. Stepping out, he began to move, gathering speed, beginning to soar. Soon enough he would be free.


  3. Wooden wings have flown but once. One mile at seventy feet, the stately Spruce Goose took wing. Hughes made good on his promise.


  4. The ice-cold water pricked his skin like a million needles seeking revenge. He struggled against his fate, feeling the morbid suction of the bottomless ocean welcoming him to an eternity of subterranean solitude. His fingers grasped uselessly for his earthy life as his mouth, that traitorous orifice, released his last gurgle of exquisite air into the melody of currents softly escorting him to his watery cradle amongst the wooden wings of the angelic figurehead of the wrecked bow.


  5. Not entering…yet.

    A complete story in three sentences is a challenge, and yet should be simple. Sentence one: beginning. Sentence two: middle. Sentence three: end. The construction of a novel in its simplest terms, and an exercise in making every word count.


  6. An image of the Spruce Goose and its heavy, utterly ridiculous wooden wings came immediately to mind. “Seriously?” I whispered to Ben, barely visibly in his black clothing and black hat pulled low over his face on what had turned out to be a fully black night. “You want me to jump over this wall?”


  7. There she sat in the beautiful world she now called her own. Creatures she had never seen before were flitting about as light as air, playing in the sunlight. She wished she could join them, but her wooden wings kept her on the ground.


  8. Hey Ellen, I told my daughter about the challenge and just wanted to share with you what she came up with. (3 lines instead of 3 sentences)

    The boy sat in his room
    carving wooden wings
    to remind himself to fly free.

    She’s 11 πŸ™‚


  9. When he came in the door, her heart fluttered as if made of feathers. His heartless words of endings killed her joy, eventually bringing thoughts of murder. Months later, the feathers had become wooden wings that insured she would never fly again.

    Sorry my noir is showing!


  10. He cleared out the closet, tossing shirts and slacks and shoes into two piles: Goodwill and his suitcase. With a flashlight, he scanned the stacks of comic books lining the floor, and grabbed the first one he could reach, blew off the dust, and sat down on the floor, light in one hand, Spiderman in the other, and he read from cover to cover. Crushed in the corner, visible in the arc of his light was his Sunday blazer from before he grew and in the pocket he found, poking up, what was left of a dime store glider, one of many he’d treasured in his youth: the broken tip of one of it’s stunningly simple wooden wings.


  11. Obsidian eyes fixed on the horizon, he balances on the edge of the bookcase. His crystal beak points south as if mindful of migration. Were it not for his wooden wings, I think he might actually take flight.


  12. “And that’s the story of how Jesus gave his life for us,” he said as he closed the book and looked down at his son, “What do you think?” The boy thought on this for a moment. Finally, he looked up at his dad and asked, “Why didn’t Jesus smash the cross in half and fly to heaven with his wooden wings?”


  13. “These are the worst buffalo wings I’ve ever eaten,” I said, breaking another tooth.
    “Didn’t you know they serve wooden wings at this establishment?” my companion asked, indicating his plate of untouched wings.
    “They do?” I asked, casting my gaze to the stars to give voice to my rage:


  14. Once I sat high in a eucalypt my blue feathers shimmering, and I laughed my canticle to the sun. The whole world rejoiced – even the men at work below. But no – not everyone enjoyed my exuberance – now my beautiful blue feathers are wooden wings and I will fly no more.


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