September fiction Writing Prompt Contest Winner

We’d like to thank everyone who entered last month’s writing prompt challenge. We had several amazing entries but one stood out from the rest. Congratulations go to Gail Dennehy for her creative take on our writing prompt! Take a look at the prompt and the winning entry below:

Prompt:
Drew always had an active imagination. On any given day he would be a pirate, an alien, or a vampire rising from the grave. He was always telling elaborate stories to frighten his friends. But after awhile, they grew tired of his tale tales. That’s why when he started to complain about hearing a mysterious noise, no one would listen.


 Whine
By Gail Dennehy

Drew always had an active imagination. On any given day, he would be a pirate, an alien, or a vampire rising from the grave. He was always telling elaborate stories to frighten his friends. But after awhile, they grew tired of his tale tales. That’s why when he started to complain about hearing a mysterious noise, no one would listen.

His mother told him to go to his room. His father laughed and asked if he was “the boy who cried wolf.” His friends just laughed in a nasty way.

And the noise got louder and louder every day. It had a rhythm and meter to it. He could keep time. Oh! Suddenly Drew knew what was happening. It was time! Something was working to change time near his house.

He looked at the clock in his schoolroom. It moved ahead normally until the whine grew shrill. Then, it moved backward. Each time, he heard the whine sharpen, the clock jumped further back. The calendar dropped pages on the floor that shredded into ash. He was already two years younger than he had been this morning. He had to find who was doing this.

When his teacher turned to put the lesson on the board, he slipped out of his seat and through the door. After all, he had done that lesson when he was in the fourth grade.

He followed the sound out of the school, across the park, and down along the riverbank. The whining trilled, Drew felt even younger. The sound seemed to be coming from just ahead. He sure hoped he could find it before he was too young to do anything about it.

Up ahead, Drew could see the old Hanson house that his parents had bought and renovated. It looked different. Not so old or broken down. He walked carefully towards it, dodging from shrub to tree to shrub again.

There was a light in the window and the noise… it hurt his ears to hear it. It was more like feeling it now in his chest and legs.

Drew pulled himself up to one of the open windows. Inside, he saw a huge machine full of dials and gears. Lots of brass shone by the lantern light. Lantern light? Maybe someone was building Steampunk things.

Suddenly, Drew had to duck back below the window. Two people walked into the room. He peeked up over the sill. Dressed in leather and buckles, It was his sister, Patti, and her boyfriend. What were they up to?

“Hey, Patti,” Drew yelled. “What you got there?”

“What? Oh, hi, Drew. We’re getting our stuff ready for the Steampunk dance next week. Come on in. What do you think?”

Drew went around through the front door and watched Jim, Patti’s friend, work on the machine. The noise sounded sharp and shrill again. Drew’s clothes were getting awfully loose.

Jim reached up to tighten a screw at the top of the machine. It was taller than he had thought. He had to stretch. “It’s a time machine, Drew. What do you think of it?”

Drew stood holding up his pants. “What do I think? I think you have a problem.”

“What do you mean?” asked Patti. “It’s not another one of your mysteries, is it?”

“Nope, it’s not a mystery,” he took Patti’s hand and looked up at her. “You see your machine really works.”

Patti looked at Drew, who reminded her of what he looked like when he started school, and at Jim, who looked just like he did when they met in Junior high. “Uh oh, Jim, for once, it looks like Drew might actually be telling the truth.” She watched as Drew struggled across the room juggling his clothes. It took him a while to cross the floor with the whining noise screaming out, but he made it to the wall and pulled the plug.

Patti went over and picked him up. “I better take him home, Jim. Mom will be wondering how the baby got here.”

“Okay, Patti,” said Jim. See you at the Seventh-grade dance tomorrow.”


To see more of Gail’s work check out these links:

Twitter: @moonmyst532

Facebook: Gail Dennehy

Website: https://sites.google.com/site/ofmanythings/

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