This year’s #Writetober2023 #50wordfiction challenge created by @Ro.Robinson.Writes on Instagram is slightly different. There are half as many prompts, and writers are invited to use two different meanings of the word. Below are my first sixteen days.

SWALLOW
“Don’t shoot that swallow!” Granny yells from the porch. “They eat mosquitoes.” Benji lowered his BB gun, annoyed Granny interrupted his clear shot. He saunters behind the barn, away from her view. I carry Rose, the gold and white kitten and follow Benji. He can escape Granny, but not me.
“The Board fired our CEO and slashed budgets. We’re going to be eliminating some positions,” my boss announces in staff meeting. “I know this is a tough pill to swallow, but we will have performance reviews and…” I panic. As the newest hire, I am sure to be let go.
WOUND
Nicole wound up the music box for what felt like the millionth time. “Rina!” her toddler shouted as she mimicked the ballerina’s twirls. Thinking of her friends, she wondered what adventures they were having. Nicole loved being a mom, but she missed adult interactions. She sighed, “Again?”
Looking at Lisa, you would never guess her story. Nothing about her stands out: mousy-brown hair, brown eyes, average height and build. Her smile is infectious, and her eyes sparkle. The physical wounds healed, but not the emotional ones. You will never get close enough to know her pain.
FLIES
The ruby-throated hummingbird hovers at the honeysuckle. Before I can take a picture, she flies away. Disappointed, I wait, hoping she will return. Minutes later, I marvel at how tiny she is as she takes another drink. I stay as still as possible so as not to scare her.
Pearl and Bessie swish their tails at the flies as they chew their cud. “Can you see Daisy?” Pearl asks. “No, but there is Farmer. I bet she is coming to check if there’s a new calf yet.” The cows follow Farmer to check on Daisy.
CRAFT
Some called her a witch, or its rhyme, because she used her craft and cunning to manipulate. In fact, she was simply a narcissist who emjoyed toying with others to get her way. She wasn’t trying to be mean, exactly, just found it amusing to try to control others.
“You’ve really honed your craft,” Alexa says, admiring Jude’s work. “The detailing is remarkable.”
“Thanks,” Jude answers clearly uncomfortable with her attention. He had known Alexa since high school, when she didn’t even know he existed. Now she attends every arts fair. Jude doesn’t know what to make of it.
BREATH
Derek took a deep breath and counted to ten, releasing his fists. It was getting easier to manage his anger. It would be easier still if he weren’t surrounded by morons. He smiled, trying not to let his feelings into his voice. “Would you please check again?” “Ill call my manager.”
“You are a breath of fresh air,” my boss tells me. “We are creating a new position, and we think you’re the right person for the job.”
Flattered, I smile, but I know I need to ask a lot of questions before I commit. “Thank you. What kind of position?”
LIES
“I am so sick of your lies!” Belinda slams the door, angrily wiping away tears as she jumps on her bike. Why had she believed that Betsy would really take her? Of course she didn’t want her kid sister tagging along. Belinda pedaled harder, letting disappointment leave through her feet.
“Here lies Gwen. She died from ironing,” Gwen scoffs to her husband. “Haha. Here lies Roy, he died from laughing.” He gives her a quick peck on the cheek and heads out to the garage to tinker. Neither had imagined marriage this way, but it was comfortable and safe.
WHISTLING
The whistling tea kettle wakes me up. I always sleep best at Grandma’s farm. This visit is different; I have come to lick my wounds and recuperate. Grandma’s has always been an escape from the real world, which I need now more than ever. This last year has been hell.
I heard his whistling first. I noticed it without realizing its meaning. Then my brain registered he had returned. I looked outside, and saw up coming up the driveway. I ran and threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. My son was finally home: alive, safe, and finally home.
TEMPLE
Greg takes off his glasses and rubs his temples. This article is getting nowhere. The more he tries to edit, the worse it becomes. It will never be ready on time. Sighing, he decides to take a break and get a snack. Procrastination is a skill he has fully developed.
“My apartment complex is just past the Hindu Temple, on the right,” Kenzie explains to her coworker Jill.
“Wait, what? There is a Hindu temple here? Have you ever been?”
“No,” admits Kenzie, “I don’t know enough about it to even know how to visit.”
“Let’s go sometime!”
