Tag Archives: tiny fist

Desolate…

Five Sentence Fiction – Desolate

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.
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Lillie McFerrin Five Sentence Fiction

Sharp, piercing pain brutally ripped through her heart, leaving her desolate, as she watched the soldiers and centurions slay both her husband and her children, burning them on Nero’s wicked stakes, because they refused to pronounce Nero was a god, and renounce Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God. Still, she held her head high, refusing to give her enemies the satisfaction of seeing how deeply wounded she was, as she boldly made eye contact with as many of the people in the jeering, murderous crowd as she could, and spoke to the members of the inquest, who had carried her to the arena, to be eaten and mauled to death by the hungry lions. Continue reading Desolate…

Words…

Five Sentence Fiction – Words

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.
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Her words were like a razor, sharp and hard, slicing their recipient to shreds, with each lashing from her tongue.

Image Credit: http://laboringinthelord.com/wp-content/ uploads/2012/04/The-Power-Of-The-Tongue.jpg

Just moments earlier, that same tongue had spoken words that were soft and soothing, a healing balm applied to the one she loved with gentleness, as she sought to heal some of the wounds caused by a lifetime of pain and abuse. There was great power in her words, and she was amazed at the transformation in her friend, who seemed to change from a lowly caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly, as she spoke those words of love and truth to her.

Yet now, as she peered at her reflection in the mirror with self-loathing, heaping those hateful curses on her image that looked back at her with tears in her eyes, she heard different words, coming from the Word Himself. “Be still, My love,” the Word tenderly whispered to her, “for you are My beloved, whom I have created fearfully and wonderfully in My image, for My glory and I command you to love yourself as I have loved you.”

© 2013
Cheryl A. Showers