Week 11: Mar

11/27/2022

Prompt:
Write about something interesting that happens during the holidays.

Word Count:
120-150 words

Submissions:
-Leave your response in the comments section. If you are interested in reading past submissions, you can find the stories there as well.

Expectations:
-Remember that you are writing for the King's Academy community. Please be respectful of that community.
-Respect the word count
-Your work should have a title--this is not part of your word count.
-Include your full name and word count at the end of your submission.
-Have fun with this challenge.

Deadline:
22:00 Wednesday, November 30th

Photo Source:
https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Flauderdalecountyal.gov%2Findex.php%2Fhome%2Fholiday-schedule%2F&psig=AOvVaw0txltSGUPisXwEPVPRKrrX&ust=1669389330943000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CA0QjRxqFwoTCNDQuMqOx_sCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD

2 Comments

Alissar

11/28/2022 11:06:33 am

The Ethereal Evening.

HO-HO-HO, the bells are jingling, the lights are twinkling, and the snowflakes are falling slowly, what a delightful time of the year. It’s Christmas evening, the only time of the year where you sit in front of a decorated tree eating sweets out of a sock! It feels like magic, looking at my family, their laughter is loud, filling my heart with life.Taking pictures together and eating gingerbread cookies, spending hours trying to choose which movie to watch, Home Alone, or The Grinch, or something else. I hug my siblings and tell them how much I am grateful for having them in my life, and they let me choose the movie, finally. We watch Home Alone for the hundredth time. Happiness surrounds this place, and that is the only thing I care about, having them by my side in this magical time of the year.

Jawad Alazzeh

11/29/2022 06:34:12 am

A Cell for Christmas
147 words

I don my fleece jacket and pull on my gloves, there is a hole where the third finger has worn through. Like always, I place my fingers to my lips and stretch them to caress my wife’s tattered picture taped to the mirror. As I pass my son’s bedroom, I peek through the slightly ajar door. His curly hair is sticking out from beneath his covers as he lets out a sudden sigh. He will be fine, I will be back before morning. The night air is chilly against my face as I tug at my collar, willing it higher. Delivering one tiny package, that is the deal. Only once, an in-and-out, and we will have a Christmas, our first in years. The image of a blinking tree, with wrapped gifts beneath, blinds me to the red and blue flashing lights and siren. A bare cell awaits.

Try Out Your Words

Week 11: Mar

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Week 11: Mar

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Try Out Your Words