Literary Lion. Six words.

The literary lion is in mourning, and so this fortnight’s challenge is Bowie inspired… and rather scarily, the chosen word – Star – seems so very apt.

It was F Scott Fitzgerald that dared to tell the great Hemingway that he couldn’t write a story in six words. Hemingway delivered a literary KO with “For sale, baby shoes: Never worn.”

For the first Literary Lion challenge of this year, I am going to ask you all to create a story with this in mind, in just six words.

As always, remember to pingback to this post, include the tag ‘Literary Lion’ so we can all read your story in the WP reader, and of course come and say hello on Instagram and twitter.

Here is my six word tale…
Starman.

Thought you were here to stay.

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The Hemingway Day. Chills.

This week’s WordPress Photography challenge is to capture the extra(ordinary). This little guy’s sole purpose in life is to tell us sun-basking humans how tepid the water is within which he bobs. He does an ordinary job. He floats in an ordinary way. He even retains his air of ordinary when the waves of a belly flop come quivering in his direction. It’s his permanent vacant gaze in the wake of such revulsion that I find quite extraordinary.

Here’s a six-word Hemingway Day inspired by our elephant friend.

 

Chills.

Feeling blue even in searing sunshine.

The Hemingway Day. Move.

I am back from my little Spanish jaunt and now I find myself amidst a sea of boxes as the boy and I prepare for a little change of scenery. This week’s WordPress photo challenge is of change, and the timing couldn’t be sweeter. Here’s a moving-day Hemingway Day for a few sections of fiction…

 

Move.

The box labelled ‘Heart’ is heavy.

The Hemingway Day. Surface.

So far in glorious London we have enjoyed about three days of summer. Today is the fourth. The sun is shining, the children are shrieking outside, my office fan is blowing hot air in circles, the inebriated are out early… and isn’t it just marvellous?

Here’s The Hemingway Day.

Surface.

Suede and water never did mix.

The Hemingway Day. Take Flight.

Often I point my camera at the sky and my finger finds its way to the shutter. Time and again I am greeted with a photograph that immediately falls victim to the delete button, but once in a while a little gem appears, with a perspective I hadn’t seen before. Sometimes in life, all you need to do is look up…

 

Take Flight.

In here, light led the escape.

The Hemingway Day. Quiet Please.

Apologies if the below contains any mumbles, bad grammar or is just bad writing. Blame it on the tennis-man.

I have everything crossed for Roger Federer to win today, although I find myself in times of trouble watching this current match, my nerves just don’t contain enough steel. I managed to clinch a pair of the illustrious, unobtainable tickets to Sunday’s final, so he needs to win so I can go all fangirl on him. If only he knew that…

Here’s to another man who might’ve also released my inner frenzied follower, Mr Hemingway…

 

Quiet Please.

His hand smelled of Cherry Chapstick.

 

Thanks to the Daily Post for the photo inspiration.

The Hemingway Day. Hide.

 

Having spent the past hour dithering between Wimbledon watching, work and this blog post, I am struggling to find more words than the six below. Welcome to The Hemingway Day…

Hide.

The wind disguised his skulking inside.

 

Thanks to The Daily Post for the photo prompt this week, here are some other photos of doors.

The Hemingway Day. Who’s there?

Greetings on this very special Friday, special because it is National Cream Tea Day here in the UK, which sparks the never-ending debate… cream or jam first? Never mind that, if I hear another person say “scon” I’m going to launch the clotted cream. It’s scone. (And the very fact you can understand what I mean from the spelling means I’m right.)

Here’s The Hemingway Day to diffuse the situation.

Who’s there?

Two shadows. But I stood alone.

 

Thanks to The Daily Post for inspiring today’s post by asking about my muse… she’s called mother nature.

The Hemingway Day. The Drunk.

 

 

Good Friday to you all. May your weekend be spent bare-footed with flowers in your hair (it’s summer solstice on Sunday, get those sunlight hours in while you still can).  Here’s a few short fiction words and a rainbow hued photo from The Hemingway Day…

 

The Drunk.

My personality was locked in bottles.

The Hemingway Day. Watching You.

I smith words. Here are six.

 

Watching You.

 

Foolishly, we thought we were alone.

 

 

At a risk of spoiling the literary illusion, this photo was taken at a very deserted Hampton Court, when it was closed for a snow day. This week’s theme at the Daily Post is ‘Off-Season‘.