Lucky Strike

A six sentence story Word prompt – Strike

When Lucy grew up, the world was a lot different; kids were allowed to buy cigarettes and alcohol in the local grocery stores, mostly for their parents and relatives.

Lucy used to skip down the street in her red plastic flip flops, tightly held the money in her little hand; when she arrived at the grocery store, she reached her hand to the much taller counter and said “A pack of Lucky Strike please”.

The shopkeeper was curious to find out where was the sound coming from as he could not see any customer in his store; “A pack of Lucky Strike please for my Papa.”, this time the little hand was waving the five-dollar note to attract the shopkeeper’s attention.

“Ah, hello you, little one!”;
“My Papa said five dollars to you and two dollars and seventy five cents change for me.”;
“Your Papa is right little one.”
The shopkeeper took the five dollar note, handed back a pack of red Lucky Strike and two dollars and seventy five cents in change.
“Thank you sir!”;
“Oh wait, here is a sweet for you, for being such a good girl.”

Red has been Lucy’s favourite colour which reminds her of being a good girl in her red plastic flip flop, red Lucky Strike in hand and a raspberry red candy on her tongue, a sweet memory of her childhood.

In Your World

Six sentence story word prompt – stroke

I am dreading to walk the long sterile corridor leading to your room, which looks extra clinical today.

There is only duty left, instead of any maternal attachment, that I am here every week to see you.

I am a bit envious that you don’t remember my name; you don’t hold me in your arms like you used to; but you stroke the plush cat I brought in like you used to with the family ginger cat.

I don’t understand the world you are living in Mama. You are talking to a toy cat like you always did in front of my teary eyes, and yet you are so far away from me.


Denise’s Six Sentence Story word prompt – Detour

“The Lotus Award goes to Sage Holmes, CEO of the Detour House Women’s foundation.” Her eyes well up in a room full of standing ovation. She is wearing a white dress to receive this life time contribution award among a group of passionate servants who are just like her, spend their lives tirelessly fighting for women’s safety and providing a roof over their heads.

Thirty three years ago, she was one of those women, without a voice, drug addicted and worked in a brothel where she hardly saw any sunlight. There was this Salvation Army woman, chubby and always brought freshly baked cookies to have a cup of tea and a chat with the girls. Her smile was bright and her hugs were warm; she was hope and their only connection to the normality of the outside world.

“I am grateful for this acknowledgement, and I owe it to that Salvation Army woman who baked us cookies and always reminded us by saying ‘ God made you girls like Lotus, living in mud but as pure as snow.’ Thank you!”


This is written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story word prompt – Confetti

We were so young.

It’s not our fault that
we didn’t have time
to rehearse life.

We didn’t understand that
stubborn promises were just a preface.

We loved so hard.

We were so inexplicable,
so endearing,
so annoying,
consumed by seven emotions
and six desires.

It was cold that day,
tears turned into ice,
snowflakes falling down
like confetti,
red-eyed, red-faced.

An Old Friend

A six sentence story prompt – Term Hosted by Girlie on the Edge

An old friend came to haunt me last night in my restlessness.
He laughed that sarcastic laugh and his words pierced my facade “You are not happy, aren’t you? Even you have the world, you are still unhappy. You are incapable of being happy.”

It’s true my friend. I have come to terms with it. I am just a miserable woman who can’t seem to be content and satisfied with what she has.

There was once a door I kept open to let the liar and accuser in, he became an old friend who is unwilling to leave without destruction, and I have been accustomed to that friendship.

Love As A Failed Art

Six Sentence Story word prompt – Canvas

I am an amateur artist finger painting on the canvas of our pure love.
Frantically smear every excitement all over a seemingly life long foundation, I am over charged with passion.
Halfway, I realise that there are patches heavily loaded with enthusiasm.
The balance is destroyed.
Giving my best effort to salvage it, I only manage to make it dark and dull.
Now the beauty is ruined, and I quit trying.


Denise’s six Sentence Story word prompt – Book

Books is a safe place to hide. The avalanches of emotions expressed in everybody’s but my story.

I got the whole world in my reading room. It is vast enough, so I burn my suitcase into ashes. Who cares if I don’t set foot out of this door again.

Books hold me hostage to the freedom I always hope to find in them.

Falling Apart

Six Sentence Story word prompt – Rambunctious

Their ten year old boy is dying of leukaemia. He is looking sick and pale.

They decided to put aside their differences and take him to sunny Noosa for a family holiday. It is a huge commitment because they have been living complete separate lives since their divorce five years ago.

The weather has been lovely until they arrive at the beach villa where overlooking the stormy ocean. Not sure if it’s the exhausting long drive and emotions, or the contrast between the rambunctious waves and their departing child, they broke down and sob uncontrollably, together.

Hole in The Wall

This is a six sentence story using the word prompt: Shelter. It’s fun to write to Denise’s weekly prompt. If you are interested in participating, link is:

Tourists from all over the world come to this place to sightsee the old ruin and the ancient city as well as experience one of the richest cultures. The modern city is built on the wealth generated from the tourism and hospitality industries. This place never sleeps and is filled with alluring activities all year round.

He climbs over the old city gate with his makeshift sleeping bag and settles in a hole of his choice for the night in the old city wall. It doesn’t take long for him to drift off, feeling cosy in his shelter, with the celebratory music vibrating from the modern city through to the old city walls. He lives in the gap of the ancient ghosts and the modern slaves.

Storm Express

This is written as a Six Sentence Story based on Denise’s word prompt- Express

It was close to midnight. We decided to drive to the beach to experience the ocean under the moonlight.

We swam far and deep out of the ocean, exhilarated, shrieking with excitement between waves. The waves built bigger and stronger tossing us to a dangerous new high.

Then came the indigo storm, running towards us like an express train, forcing us to swim for our life. When it hit the shore in such great force, we were spat out like wreckage, exhausted and intertwined, looking like a cluster of seaweeds.