Begin a scene with a non-visual sense. Describe a specific sound, smell, taste, etc to capture your setting, then expand the story out from there.

Posted in Fiction on Sep 29, 2023

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✍️ 174 stories

“Whale Song” by Danielle Barr

🏆 Winner of Contest #218

Agony broils, but anguish simmers. I have known them both well and in equal measure. In the early days, my brain felt blurry and disjointed; I had the sense of being deep underwater, all undulating shadows and echoing whale song. The darkness was expansive, and the staticky, dull sense of confusion I felt was sometimes intercut with crippling panic. BP is spiking, the whales moan. Slowly, slowly, I floated to the surface, leaving the deep water below me. Still darkness, but the birdsong of faraway waterfowl sharpened, morphing into b...

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“Forged in the Breach” by Kevin Logue

Submitted to Contest #218

Discorded drunken music swaggered up from the city of flapping canvas below. Tuneless yet merry lutes, belched singing and half hearted cheering, all battling for dominance over the melee of whetstone and anvil. What a racket it made. Never been a night different though, not to Jax's memory anyway. Same patriotic songs, same heroic stories, same bloody business needed doing come morn'. Only thing ever changed was the number of the dead. And that only traveled one road. Pointless the lot of it.Something has to change.Blowing out a smoking bre...

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“Rumination” by Michał Przywara

Submitted to Contest #218

I feel my intestines move. It’s a sudden jerking – spleenwards – and then a quiet simmer. Is this what it’s like for pregnant women, when the baby kicks? Only, instead of a baby, it’s a nest of garter snakes. And the snakes are suddenly cold and they’re looking for a hot stone to rest on, and they drag my balls up into my body with them, as though they were dragging their luggage to the bus stop. And I wonder: is this a sign? Am I making a mistake? Right now? It’s weird to feel cold inside, to have ice spreading over and through my stomach r...

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“Crochet” by AnneMarie Miles

Submitted to Contest #218

For family members of terminally ill individuals.You take your time walking down the aisle, running your hand along the rows of skeins, giving each a gentle squeeze. Some are fluffy, thick cords of feathery fibers, while others are fuzzy like one long rope of pom poms. Some are thinner, strings of intertwining wool and cotton and silk, acrylic even. Some are rougher, not like hemp, but textured like a thousand individual hairs twisted together. You can feel the invisible fly away strands spiking upwards and yielding down against your touch.T...

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“The Lock Tickler” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #218

The prestigious Bearing and Whitworth Building was silent except for the incessant chatter of the starlings roosting behind its tenth-floor fascia. The law firm’s employees had fled their Wormwood Street offices for the weekend, leaving the commercial district empty but for the occasional bellow from distant river traffic and the dissonant howl of a patrol car’s siren. However by mid-evening the scuttle of feral paws and the yelp of an urban fox added to the stark ensemble as members of the local wild life appeared from their dark ...

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“Mida's Touch” by Rebecca Miles

Submitted to Contest #218

The autumn years: the time you’ve worked and waited for. To settle back, finally for more than a snatched half hour, on that comfy sofa you spent the best part of one career year saving for, sinking with a loud sigh into those plump cushions. No lego bricks digging into your back or model cars skidding beneath your feet. Just space to stretch luxuriously out, a glass of red wine in one hand, each sip a taste of the south; a book in the other, any yarn will do, you’re old enough to read what you like now after all. That’s the dream isn’t it w...

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“Don’t Smell the Roses” by Livana Teagan

Submitted to Contest #218

T/W: Depictions of a dead body, read at your own discretion.“The stench of death.”Why do they call it this? Death doesn’t stink at all. I try my hardest not to breathe it in, but it’s there. It’s clawing at my nose, settling on my tongue, filling up my throat. It leaves me to choke. I’m frozen by the smell and helpless to escape it.Couldn’t I run before?Couldn’t I walk, crawl, jump, and dance?Why can’t I move now?These legs are stiff like hardened concrete.My chest raises with tiny inhales, small, like cool sips of water. One right after ano...

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“An Unseen Path” by Scott Christenson

Submitted to Contest #218

Emma felt the warmth of the sun on her face. She stood on the soft grass at Bear Grove Park, and took a deep breath of the crisp spring air. Being matched with a running guide that day was her first step on the road to running the Springfield marathon.A sound of footsteps drew nearer. She was prepared for the fact that sighted people could be awkward in these situations. The Run Together foundation had given her his basic info, at least that was something to work with.“Hello Andy,” she said, with a joyous optimism, as if she had heard fabulo...

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“1861 - A Reunion in Calcutta” by Suma Jayachandar

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #218

CW: Racism, Religious fervor Is that the perfume gifted by your captors who snatched you away from your kingdom that’s wafting in the air, my darling boy? It stinks and smells worse than your uncle’s blood splattered on your face even as you watched in horror: a 7-year-old Maharaja robbed of his wazir and his regent mother robbed of her brother. It’s been 13 years since we breathed the same air, stood under the same roof, and spoke a word of endearment in person. It’s a pity we are not standing on the soil of Lahore from where you were rip...

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“BIRDS OF PARADISE” by Jolanta Polk

Submitted to Contest #218

The unusual sound came from the toolshed just as dusk began to blur Bilburry Hall's contours. Something resembling wings flapping against bushes or dozens of creatures attempting to flee the constraints of the wooden structure. Even though it was more of a feeling than an actual noise, Tom Davies, the gardener, couldn't resist investigating further. He approached the structure with caution, his heart beating with apprehension.Of late, he noticed strange things happening in the garden. Things that, on their own, could...

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“The Gift” by Mary Bendickson

Submitted to Contest #218

The Gift I wish to impart to you, my friend, a gift. Hopefully, you will be able to put it to use now and throughout your lifetime. It should be renewable and sustainable. You may even pass it on to another if you choose. I only ask you use it wisely and cautiously. It can be very powerful. I do not intend to be so mysterious. I will tell you what the gift is and what it isn't. It isn't a panacea for all life's woes. But it can be a tool to help cope with whatever struggles and strife life lays at your doorstep and to reach self-improvement...

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“The Book of Misrevelation” by Nina Chyll

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #218

We could smell the war before it dawned over the horizon. Day after day, vinegar pushed through pores on our skin clogged by testosterone. The muggy smoke of burning soup filled lungs whenever we forgot about it cooking on the stove. The stench of diarrhoea in the latrines was impossible to withstand, and it doesn’t deserve to be described here other than to say we stole laundry pins from the villagers to put on our noses for protection just to do our business. Sheets had to hang out, smelling crisply of starch, war or no war. We fille...

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“Cockroach Girl” by Audrey Knox

Submitted to Contest #218

The floor underneath Barry shuddered and swayed as they took a tight corner. The clattering whoosh of the dark tunnel drowned out the tired silence of the other commuters. Barry’s sweaty hand threatened to slide loose from its cold metal pole, so he adjusted his grip and tried not to think about what had made it so sticky. Multiple people had relieved themselves in this car over the course of the day. The sickly sweet mixture of vomit and tangy excrement churned his stomach, threatening to dislodge the chopped salad he’d had for lunch tha...

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“White” by Delbert Griffith

Submitted to Contest #218

“…no man can ever feel his own identity aright except his eyes be closed; as if darkness were indeed the proper element of our essences…” ...

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“From Hungover to Hopeful” by Priscilla Fick

Submitted to Contest #218

The assault on her olfactory sense was almost too much for Brianna to bear. Odorless disinfectant, my ass, she thought as she walked to her seat in the very last row at the back of the plane. Great, I’m right next door to the lavatory too. The flight was full to capacity so asking to change seats would have been a waste of the reserve energy she was functioning on. Had it not been for Kayla waking her up, Brianna would certainly not have made it to the airport on time.“Excuse me,” Brianna motioned towards the flight attendant while trying to...

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Ended on 23:59 - Oct 06, 2023 EST

Won by Danielle Barr 🏆

Title: Whale Song

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Begin a scene with a non-visual sense. Describe a specific sound, smell, taste, etc to capture your setting, then expand the story out from there.

Submissions are closed

✍️ 174 stories

“Whale Song” by Danielle Barr

“Forged in the Breach” by Kevin Logue

“Rumination” by Michał Przywara

“Crochet” by AnneMarie Miles

“The Lock Tickler” by Howard Halsall

“Mida's Touch” by Rebecca Miles

“Don’t Smell the Roses” by Livana Teagan

“An Unseen Path” by Scott Christenson

“1861 - A Reunion in Calcutta” by Suma Jayachandar

“BIRDS OF PARADISE” by Jolanta Polk

“The Gift” by Mary Bendickson

“The Book of Misrevelation” by Nina Chyll

“Cockroach Girl” by Audrey Knox

“White” by Delbert Griffith

“From Hungover to Hopeful” by Priscilla Fick

🌟 Similar prompts

Start the story with the absence of a sensory detail (eg. silence when there should be noise).

‘Hit a tripwire of smell and memories explode all at once.’ Use the senses to transport a character back to the past.

Write a story that begins, ends, or changes with a song played by a busker.

‘The worst meal I’ve ever tasted.’ Imagine a zero-star TripAdvisor restaurant review: capture the customer’s evening out that compelled them to complain.

Contest #218

Enter our weekly contest!

$250

Prize money

334

Contest entries

97

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

Explore more writing prompt ideas: