WikiRandom Writer’s Challenge

In early February, Laird Sapir created the first 2012 WikiRandom 3-Sentence Writer’s Challenge. Somehow, I managed to snag the title and with it, the charge of bringing the second challenge to my readers. I hope a lot of you will enter because it is really fun to read the entries and because I got so much out of writing my entry for the last contest (see my post about this).

So here goes:


The Challenge: Create (preferably off the top of your head) a three-sentence story based upon the following prompt, which I’ve chosen at random by hitting Wikipedia’s “random article” button.

The Rules: You must use the prompt in a sentence. Post your three sentences below in the comments area.

The winner (who will be announced on Tuesday March 27th) will receive, in Laird’s words (which made me giggle), “adoration and praise and a nifty badge to display” on his or her website, and the judge’s mantle for the next challenge which they will host on their blog in April, on a day of their own choosing. If they don’t have a blog, then we’ll figure out together where the next contest will be held.

Trust me when I say it’s worth giving it a shot.

THE PROMPT: ‘an organic reaction’

Have fun! Come back to read the entries as they come in and look for next Tuesday’s announcement of the winner and runners-up!



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21 thoughts on “WikiRandom Writer’s Challenge

  1. I’ll play!!

    I tromped through the woods, searching for gold. No one warned me about the three-pointed leaves of the poison ivy, which happened to blanket the forest ground like the layer of curls across my husband’s chest. Instead of gold, I came home with an organic reaction.

  2. True love cannot be genetically modified, nor can it be washed in any “cide” to keep the sting and anguish at bay. There is no tried and true recipe concerning affairs of the heart: it is a little of “this” and some of “that” folded into patience beyond a bushel and a peck. Sustainable, cultivated, and nurtured; true love is an organic reaction.

  3. “So, are you coming or what?” he said, folding his arms across his chest.

    She knew what he wanted to hear, if only to support and validate what he needed her to be in relation to him. But she wasn’t that person anymore (was she ever?) and for the first time since she’d met him she spoke her own truth, letting her organic reaction come tumbling out: “Yes, but it won’t ever be with you.”

  4. His soothing and sensual voice lead our class through the vinyasa, and I felt like a serpent slithering through the grass. He told us to breathe through the sequence, relax in the pose and feel the sensation of breath. Flowing through the movements and surrendering to the moment, I was experiencing an organic reaction not just to the yoga, but also to life.

  5. The sheet looked like one of my mother’s, pale with a flower pattern, wrapped round and round with neatly folded edges and strips of blue fabric securing the bundle. Too small; too impossibly small for such a vibrant spirit. A few toys, no-longer needed, formed splashes of colour against the dirt raining down and down, until only three hastily picked geraniums marked the place where our little friend was now fuel for an organic reaction.

  6. She chewed the seeds after claims they would prevent all the illnesses around her. Upon swallowing them, she had an organic reaction and choked. Her death was listed as suffocation, not the illness she’d hoped to avoid by eating them in the first place.

  7. We had been arguing for a good twenty minutes (or a bad twenty minutes, depending on your perspective) about why the grubs were still eating my lawn, despite the application of what I had been assured was an effective, all-natural pesticide the week before. I wanted them dead, I spelled out for the landscaper, dead as ugly little doorknobs, dead now and forevermore. What I did not want was to hear one more word about nematodes, and how they created an organic reaction in the larvae of the nasty creatures that were destroying the beautiful carpet of green that I had worked so hard—so hard!—to create.

  8. Her heart thudded dully beneath the lapels of her three-piece pinstripe suit, a fight-or-flight adrenaline rush building against this foreign sensation she couldn’t understand. As if he sensed it, he gently slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her into the slow dance. With a smile, he whispered in her ear, “This isn’t a battle, Ana–it’s an organic reaction.”

  9. “You did what to the who now?”

    The question sat on the living room rug, creating a hurdle that neither parent nor child could overcome.

    “Mo-om, it’s only hair, and the Ritz dye and peroxide created come kind of an organic reaction.”

    (okay, I’m post-call and just work up and if I’d had more sleep I’d wordsmith this more, but there you go… 😉

So what do you think?