Yellow Tents

Though I complained about her pitch this week,working-template-for-ff-challenges48.png  I swung and got a triple off  Charli Mills‘ 
prompt. Still, I’ll continue to complain. Yellow tent?! I have slept in a number of tents, have seen a multitude and vast variety of tents. Yellow is a rare color among tents. But now Carrot Ranch is dotted with yellow tents of all sorts. Click over to read or write.                          
August 2, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a yellow tent. Where is it and who does it belong to? Think of how the color adds to the story. Go where the prompt leads. Respond by August 7, 2018. Use the comment section to share, read and be social.                                                                                                    Here’s where I was led. 


Luxury Home

If you’ve ever sat and watched a mountaintop succumb to dusk’s misty cover; if you’ve sat long enough to see the fog reveal the mountaintop again but linger in the cuts and valleys; if witnessed a westward mountain reluctantly letting go its grip on the slanting sunlight that battled clouds all day, now trailing yellow rays grasping at the underside of high branched leaves, streaking yellow ripples across the water, then you know. You’re just a poor camper, with all the riches that heaven and earth have to offer, the late evening sky the roof of your yellow tent.


At the Midway

It was a yellow tent, not well placed in the carnival midway, but its owner sang out to prospective customers, enticing them to come closer, come curious, come in.

Come in, come in, all will be revealed
Lived well, or sinned, come see how you’ll be dealed.
Step through the yellow tent
See how your end of days are spent.

Most went in just for a lark, laughing.
Some came out beaming, said the tent had the buttercup color of sunshine summer days. Others came out shaken, said the tent was sulfur colored, reminded them of lightning, striking close.


The Fortune Giver

Also on the midway, an exotic red haired Portuguese gypsy woman spun fortunes from words. Her tent was unmistakably the color of sunshine, which drew people eager to spend their 99 cents for the gift of story. In every story the gypsy spun, people heard their own story and left emboldened enough to tell their stories themselves. This yellow tent buzzed and hummed with stories as more and more people came to hear and to tell. The gypsy woman glowed, basking in her good fortune, measured not in the 99 cents, but the 99 word stories of her community.


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6 thoughts on “Yellow Tents

  1. I think you got your 99 cents worth in this time. And so did we – three stories for the price of one.
    I love the poetry of your first. What a beautiful image you paint. If only I liked to camp.
    The second – midway – I find a bit forbidding. I’ve never been brave to enter a yellow tent for fear of what I may be told and how it might influence my path. I’d rather find out as each new day I live.
    The third is a wonderful tribute to the magic our gypsy woman spins.
    Great stories all three.
    The thought of a market tent also came to mind, but I think it’s disappeared now and I have other thoughts to grind.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. We’re all Campers, Buddy.
    I don’t go in much for carnivals or fortune telling either, but that dang gypsy makes me write something whether I like it or not, some weird coercion induced by poisoned carrots or something. I think the midway one is a combo of creepy carnival venue and a tent revival, two curious things about which I am not that curious.
    I have yet to read at the Ranch but imagine I’ll find all sorts of tents over there.
    Thanks for coming by.


  3. Pingback: Yellow Tents « Carrot Ranch Literary Community

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