“Is not!”

“Is, too!”

“No way your grandfather is an alien hunter!” Johnny hissed, his face close to Kevin’s.

“IS, TOO!” Kevin shouted.

The boys stared at each other, then Kevin said, “”I can prove it.”

“How?” scoffed Johnny. “You gonna show me a dead alien.”

“No, even better,” said Kevin, “I can show you his chuffleuffle gun.”

“Now I know you’re lying,” said Johnny. “There’s no such thing as a scuffleumple gun.”

“Yeah — because it’s a chuffle–uffle gun,” Kevin replied. “You don’t even know the right name for it.”

“Fine,” said Johnny. “Show me the gun.” He wasn’t going to attempt that ridiculous name again.

The two boys went to Kevin’s grandfather’s room. They could hear grandfather singing in the kitchen, so they knew it was safe to go in his room. Kevin pointed at the short bell-nosed gun leaning in the corner.

“See?!” He whispered triumphantly.

Johnny rolled his eyes. “It’s just an old gun.”

“No! It’s a chuffleuffle gun. That’s the noise it makes when he shoots it. AND, he only uses it to shoot chuffles.”

Johnny snorted. “What’s a chuffle? An alien?”

“YES!” said Kevin. “From the planet Chuff!”

Grandfather was still singing away, so Kevin took a step closer. “See, here’s grandfather’s hunting hat and glasses. The chuffleuffle gun can hurt your eyes, but it wouldn’t hurt you if I shot you with it. It only hurts chuffles.”

Johnny looked skeptical.

“I’ll show you,” said Kevin, and he reached for the gun.

---

This partial story brought to you by The Unicorn Challenge.

That darn 250 word is going to be the death of me.

Not a chuffleuffle gun, though, because I’m not a chuffle.

Oh, you take the high road
And I’ll take the low road…

They both studied the map. Iain watched Josh trace a route that looked longer than long. It took him north first, then southeast along the railroad tracks — tracks that took him so far south so that he had to ride north again. Why he didn’t follow the trail that seemed direct?

But it was a race.

Iain zoomed down the trail until he got to the livestock chute with the curved fencing. He was so bent on beating Josh that he hadn’t really paid attention until his ATV got stuck in that metal curve.

“STOP. LOOK. LISTEN.” He read angrily. “NOW you tell me!”

Then, he heard it. The train. Josh was on those tracks. He was a goner.

Iain heard the train blow an urgent whistle.

Suddenly his stuck ATV meant nothing. “Please, God,” he whispered, “let Josh be safe.”

His heart pounded as he heard the speeding train approach. Its whistle grew louder and more insistent. He squeezed the cold metal rail of the livestock chute.

He didn’t want to look.

In fact, he averted his eyes as the train roared past. He rested his head on the fence, holding back the tears.

Then he heard the low buzz of an ATV engine. He looked up to see Iain riding by on the tracks, AFTER the train, laughing and waving.

---

My response to this week’s Unicorn Challenge: write a story based on the photograph, no more than 250 words.

“Once upon a time,” Dad began, “there were three chairs. Papa Chair, Mama Chair, and Baby Chair.”

“Chairs?” asked Junior, scrunching up his face.

“Yes, chairs,” Dad replied. He continued, “So Papa Chair said to Mama Chair –“

“Chairs don’t talk,” interrupted Junior.

“These chairs do,” Dad said. “Papa Chair said –“

“How can a chair talk? It doesn’t have a mouth,” said Junior.

“Maybe the wind whistles through the slats and makes a noise,” Dad explained.

“But then the chair has no control over it. It has to wait for the wind to come along.”

Dad sighed. “Just let me tell the story. Papa Chair said to Mama Chair, ‘How are you today?'”

“Maybe Papa Chair squeaked. Sometimes chairs squeak, right?” Junior interjected.

Dad ignored him. “Mama Chair didn’t answer, but Baby Chair said, ‘Can’t you see Mama Chair is a broken mess?'”

“Of course Papa Chair couldn’t see. Chairs don’t have eyes,” said Junior.

Dad continued, “Papa Chair didn’t know what to do! Baby Chair said, ‘Just call a committee.'”

“This is getting stupider, Dad,” Junior said.

Dad pretended not to hear. “Papa Chair said, ‘What committee? Why?’ Baby Chair said, ‘Any committee could help. They all have Chairmen.'”

“Yeah, well, when my chair broke, you just said that it was letting me down.” Junior said. “And then, you said that you had thought about replacing it with a rocking chair, but you kept going back and forth on it. Psssfftt… Dad jokes”

---

Blame the Unicorn Challenge for this.

“What IS it?” Iain asked, staring at sphere.

It was roughly the size of a grapefruit, translucent, mottled, and reflecting the gold of the cushion it rested on. The sign next to it read, “MAGIC. DO NOT TOUCH!”

Mairi reached toward it, but Iain slapped her hand away.

“DON’T TOUCH IT!” he yelled. “Can’t you read?!”

“I just want to look at it better. I can’t tell what it is,” Mairi said, her lower lip trembling.

The two children stared at ball. It had mysteriously appeared on the table.

“We should tell Mom,” Iain finally said. “It gives me the creeps.”

“She’s in the kitchen with George,” Mairi said. The tone of her voice and the accompanying eye-roll said everything about her feelings toward George.

“I’ll get her,” Iain said. “You wait here, but don’t touch it.”

She frowned and stared. “What makes it magic?” she said aloud and reached for the ball as her mother and Iain came in.

*POOF* Mairi was gone.

Iain grabbed hold of his mom, terrified. “What just happened?!” he cried.

Behind them both, a deep voice ordered, “Bring that here.”

Iain looked at George. His height and heft alone were scary, but that booming voice made Iain’s stomach feel all squeezy.

“Bring it here,” he ordered again.

“But… but…” Iain stammered.

George took a step toward him, so Iain reached for the orb.

*POOF* Iain was gone.

George slid his arm around their mother.

“Now, where were we?” he said, smiling wickedly.

---

This is my response to this week’s Unicorn Challenge — write a 250 word story based on the picture shown above.

The Unicorn Challenge — write a max 250 word story based on the photo prompt.

Here goes nothing —

---

When Lilly saw Gemma in the grocery store, she knew this would not be the quick trip that Mom promised.

“Ella!” she exclaimed, rushing over to them. “Have I got a story for you!”

Mom glanced down at Lilly and said, “Why don’t you go get some cherries while Gemma and I talk?”

Lilly did not need to be asked twice. She loved cherries.

Still within sight of her mom, she went to the large display in the produce section. She grabbed a bag and started filling it with fruit. Then she spied something in the cherry bin.

She went back to her mom and tugged on her sleeve.

“And then I saw them –,” Gemma was saying, but Ella put up her hand to pause the story.

“What do you need, honey?” she asked Lilly.

“What if there’s something besides cherries in the cherry bin?” Lilly asked.

“That happens sometimes,” Mom said. “The fruit gets mixed up. Just put cherries in the bag.”

“But what if I want to get something besides cherries?” she asked.

“Put each different thing in its own bag,” her mother replied.

Lilly nodded and headed back.

She heard Gemma continuing, “The two of them were…”

Lilly finished filling the cherry bag and then put her other item in a different bag. She shrugged as she did it, but Mom had said.

“Ready?” Mom asked, coming alongside Lilly. She nodded her approval at the cherries, then screamed — when she saw the large snail in a bag.

Duncan opened his eyes and looked around the room.

He couldn’t believe his luck! Everyone was sleeping.

The huge family dinner had been amazing and delicious. Now the family was sprawled in chairs, sofas, even on the floor. Duncan pushed himself up out of his chair and carefully stepped over the sleeping boy with the open book on his chest. Someone stirred on the couch, but Duncan tiptoed out through the back kitchen door.

As the door clicked shut behind him, he breathed in the fresh afternoon air. Now, where was his bike?

Behind the garage, he found the blue BMX. He climbed on, but it was strange; suddenly it felt too small for him. No matter — he was just taking a wee spin around the park.

He headed down the bike path and began pedaling. He hoped he would see some of his buddies kicking the ball on the field, but he didn’t recognize any of the kids playing.

He kept riding.

The playground looked unfamiliar. The slide was bright blue, the swings were a rainbow of colors. When did they put that there? he wondered.

As he looped back toward the house, he wondered at the people staring at him.

The seat is too low, he thought. It does feel awkward. I need to raise it.

When home was in sight, he saw a woman running toward him.

“Dad!” she cried. “Dad, don’t scare us like that by taking off on Johnny’s bike!”