Micro Fiction Challenge: Recondite
Last week we launched the WriteByNight Micro Fiction Club and challenged y’all to write a 25-word-or-less piece of fiction using one of my favorite words, “defenestrate.” About a dozen of you flexed your short fiction muscles, and we enjoyed reading the results. We’ve chosen a winner, which you’ll find below.
This week’s challenge: write a 25-word (or less!) story using the word “recondite.” Post your entry/entries below, and feel free to use a pseudonym if you’re shy.
Lots of good micro stories came in last week: Props to Betty for being the first entrant, Laura for being violent, Justine for punny wordplay, Dana for assuming we don’t have a no-F-bomb policy (we don’t!) and everyone else for contributing. But we can choose only one winner.
And that winner is Ava Love! Give it up for Ava Love, everybody, and her defenestration story, which goes like this:
“I’m not afraid of falling,” she cried from the window, threatening self-defenestration over our breakup.
“No,” I said while leaving, “falling is the fun part.”
We’ll announce this week’s winner in this space next Tuesday, and we’ll give a shout-out to our favorites on Facebook and Twitter.
Have at it, recondites! (Not a word.)
It’s a recondite fact that cordite is not the main ingredient in corduroy. Dress your family in THAT, David Sedaris.
He’s feelings kept recondite, he walk past the trooper.
The blood stains now dry on his hands.
He’s five steps away from the perfect crime.
A five second musical rendition of a recondite Shakespearean tragedy: “Love!” he sang. “Jest!” she danced. He heard “joust.” He lost. She wept. Suicide. Curtain.
Hey! Last week was 50 words, are they going to get shorter each week?!
Condite and Recondite were sitting in a boat. Condite fell out. Who was left?
Her heart screams for her love’s attention through recondite emotions no legal definition can successfully define. Yet, definitions are recorded and forbidden loves hidden.
The office newbie made some recondite statements about his emotional past, unfortunately; he didn’t know how to fix a photocopier.
Between trying to decipher the recondite goings-on of your brain and quietly keeping secrets of my own, I hardly sleep.
Gaudy yet unobtrusive; subtle yet overbearing; obvious yet recondite. My muse, she contradicts me at every turn. Oh, Antonym! Why am I so drawn?
The dog was dead, taking with it the obtuseness of childhood and revealing life’s recondite secret: the sweetest moments merely hide an ever waiting cruelty.
Over dinners of Campbell’s soup, he’s always saying things like, “Smitherman’s data is recondite.” I love him, but I want to crush his skull.
[…] last week’s Micro Fiction Challenge was a tough call. We enjoyed Amanda’s Shakespearean turn, as well as Week 1 winner Ava […]
Loppe means spider in Old English, don’t call me recondite if you value your head.