Story Cube Challenge – Week 4

Hello there. It’s that time of the week again!

I seriously hope someone out there is doing this challenge with me, because I don’t have anyone to complain to. 😛 It’s challenging, that’s for sure. But it’s also kind of fun. It is getting easier to get the story going, once I have a basic idea of what the story should be. My husband has been an incredible aid in working out that part. He comes up with the story and I just write.

In case you missed it, click here for last week’s cubes.

This is how our hero looks this week.



And these are the cubes for week 4.


My story for week 3 took a pretty weird twist. I’m kind of dazed at it, but heck, it’s something and I wrote it. Even if it’s sub-par.

Have a look.

Story Cubes – Week 3

The jester pulled up his three-pronged hat, bells jingling with the action. He sighed as he fixed a spot of smudged face paint. Curse my fate to be reduced to this.

Once, he had been noble, but that was a long time ago. Because his father had lost favour with the king, he had been taken to pay the price. I was just a boy then. What did I know of favour and politics? He had learned, though.

Now, he was a man grown, his father long dead, but still he had to be the laughing stock. No use to cry about it.

With his usual tinkling and theatrics, he entered the king’s hall. He jibed and jived all the way to his little podium and then began with his poem.

“Thaddeus Appletower slept,
And while he slept the heavens wept,
And sent down lightning with a bang.
A bang, that through the forest rang.
It set the mighty wood ablaze,
With pillars of flame that stretched to space.
The heat rose up to melt the moon,
And all who drank became a loon.
The water ran into a fountain,
Atop the world’s highest mountain.
Old Thad awoke with horror deep,
When he found no moon to light his sleep.
He fought the loons, left and right,
Until the day dissolved the night.
Thad then sat down, wearing a frown,
Realising that he was upside down.
His soles had soaked in moon-water,
And in the air he now must trotter.
He passed through clouds, atop the wind,
Into the skies where his true story begins.”

The jester bowed, waiting for the crowd to cheer. However, no applause sounded. The hall was silent enough to hear a serving girl fart and the king slammed his fist against his table.

The monarch glared at the jester. “Since that performance did not make us laugh, maybe seeing you squirm on a chopping block will. Call the headsman.”


Let’s hope I have better luck next time! 😛

Have a good weekend, folks!



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