This week’s flash fiction challenge prompt was:
“The shoes by the door.”
We kept the same half-dribble format as last week. Exactly 25 words. Not 24. Not 26.
We had another great turnout, and it was fascinating to see how many directions a simple prompt could take. Some stories explored grief and longing. Others leaned into humor, domestic tension, crime, or quiet hope. A few were unsettling. A few were tender. All of them proved how much story can live inside twenty-five carefully chosen words.
As you read through them, I encourage you to follow the authors on Facebook. If a piece worked for you, chances are their other work will too.
A big thanks to all who participated:
- John Cox
- Robert E. Eden - Author
- Kathy Goddard writer
- Author Jennifer Jaxxon-Louis
- JDonovanStrong
- Author Lisa Marie
- A Season In Provence
- Jesse R Traynham - Author
- Mary Zuelke Author
Likes: 4
Words: 25
The shoes by the door still faced outward, patient as promises. He never returned, but every night she turned them just in case once more.
Likes: 4
Words: 25
Shoes by the door, Clothes on the floor, As long as they stay, My cares melt away. Shoes by the door- Whispers love ever more.
Likes: 3
Words: 25
Dad got some new slippers, Comfy, quite a bit larger. “Dad is that you in there with her?” “Get outta here kid,” yelled Uncle Roger.
Likes: 3
Words: 24
My job was to document, list the souls. They breathed their names with earthly importance. Names didn’t matter. Shoes shed, names shed. Life ascended.
Likes: 3
Words: 25
I tripped over those stupid shoes in the doorway again. Yelled something I probably shouldn't have. I carefully placed them back where you left them.
Likes: 3
Words: 25
Stagnant, old, withered—ages have gone by, yet no one came. With hopeful hearts, they waited—watched for the return of laughter, footsteps, and life.
Likes: 2
Words: 25
The shoes have been there for nineteen years, tucked beside the door. I keep them clean - one day my daughter might come back for them.
by Author Jennifer Jaxxon-Louis
Likes: 2
Words: 25
No matter whose sneakers or pumps are near the door, if you sniffed, you know all too well that they’d have that awful popcorn smell.
by John Cox
Likes: 1
Words: 25
The calibration was way off materializing the red shirts a meter deep and upside down in solid rock. I guess now I get my chance.
When Colton Travers was just four months old, a runaway horse on Bent Oak Road cause a car wreck that left his mother dead. His father survived, then vanished. Raised on family stories and faded photographs, he never questioned the past . . . until a worn shoe box of old clippings surfaced with hints of a darker truth. Now, drawn into a fifty-year-old unsolved case, Colton must chase a trail gone cold, where memory holds the clues, time keeps the truth, and justice demands satisfaction.
Stargazing at the June Bug Ranch
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