The September 26, 2022 story challenge from Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch is to: Write a story about a broken arm. What happened? Is there a cause and effect because of the broken arm? Was the injury faked? Why? Go where the prompt leads! Submit by October 1, 2022.
In her post Charli shares this note:
Would you fake a broken arm for me? (based on a robin protecting another from potential danger at the cat farm) -- birdsers vs. cat lovers -- robin humping for worms or insects <line> The Isolation of a Lone Gunman <line> Find Your Happy Place as a Beauty Regime -- thrift store top -- earrings
Yes, a challenge. Here is a three part response, each 99 words. If you want to know the story you’ll have to go to the Cowsino and look for it down in the comments. And be sure to try your luck with that separate story spine writing challenge while you’re there.
Shop Therapy by D. Avery
“It’s shop therapy day,” my sister said, “We’re going to the thrift store.”
Maybe because it was chilly and gray out, my sister gravitated towards a colorful cloak. But another woman, eyeing the racks like a cat, tail twitching, snatched it up first. “Early bird gets the worm,’ she said.
After a quick detour through bedding I appeared with my arm wrapped and hanging in a sling. “She wants the cloak for me. Because of my broken arm.”
The appeal did not work. “Eh. She looks like a lone gunman in that cloak,” I said. “Let’s look at earrings.”
“I’m relieved you paid for it, but I’d rather you’d left it.” Over the steaming mug of tea my sister’s eyes said she thought I was crazy for still wearing my improvised sling.
“Why? You make things up.” I squeezed another honey packet into my tea. “Maybe when you’re a famous author we can shop somewhere besides the thrift store. Go to a real tea shop and not this diner.”
“Never! That stuff has stories! And diners… OMG, maybe she is a lone gunman. It’s the cloak clutcher and she definitely has something underneath it. Shit, here she comes.”
“Your arm really is broken? Here, take the cloak. I’m finished with it anyway.”
The woman removed the cloak, handing it to me. She deftly tucked an elegant China teapot on the seat next to my sister then sat down, shielding it from view. She sat across from me, her cat eyes flashing a challenge.
“Wrap your teapot in this.” I undid my sling and passed it to her. “But the cloak is for my sister. I’d do anything for her. Except steal.”
“I bet you would too steal, if you had to.”
My sister sat up, sniffing a story.
Be sure to go to Carrot Ranch’s Cowsino to read the conclusion to this story and to hang out reading and writing for a while.