5th #SatSunTails

Welcome to the fifth #SatSunTails micro fiction competition.

Be warned – the prompts aren’t easy, but that’s so you can write to the best of your ability.

If you haven’t had a go before at this writing challenge, then please don’t hesitate to try this weekend.


  • Post stories in the comments
  • Stories must be 150 words (margin of 5 words either side) AND based on the picture and written prompts.
  • If you title your entry this is not counted in your word count.
  • Only one entry allowed (so make it count)
  • End each entry with word count and name/twitter handle (if you forget these REPLY TO YOUR OWN COMMENT with them before judging closes)
  • You may enter until Monday 10am GMT (because I’m extra kind like that).

If you do not comply with these rules your story will be disqualified from judging. Good spelling and grammar will also help to make a better impression on judges – the odd typo, however, will be overlooked so please don’t worry about that.

For tips, read through the critiques from last week’s entries.


There will be ONE OVERALL WINNER and THREE RUNNERS UP. After that there will be THREE CRITIQUES of three stories that didn’t make it.

It would also be nice to those participating if you could promote your fellow competitors and those who win.

Today’s Prompt!

The following may be used as a sentence in your story OR provide a basis for it:-

“the/a door with burning eyes”

And here is your picture prompt:

& good luck!

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22 thoughts on “5th #SatSunTails”

  1. “Daryl, stop the car!” I shouted, but he ignored me and continued driving.
    “Stop the car! There was a girl back there.”
    Daryl sighed, still driving onwards.

    “There was no girl back there, there wasn't anyone back there. How far do we have to go till San Antonio?”

    I didn't respond. He braked, and the car slowed to a halt. Without the engine masking its sound, the rain became the only noise audible.

    “I asked, how far have we got left until San Antonio? It's getting dark, and there's a storm coming.”

    I fumbled through the canned food and water bottles to find the map, my mind preoccupied with the girl standing by the side of the road, pink umbrella in hand. I was tempted to go back for her, the handle of the door glaring at me with burning hands.

    “About 50 miles” I replied, and the car started moving once again.

    Word Count – 153

  2. The rain pummeled his windshield with a ferocity that left his vision impaired, seeing things that were not there and missing things that were. A small furry creature scurried across the cobble-stoned road and being the animal lover that he was, he swerved to avoid it.

    He didn't see her there, standing on the side of the road in the pouring rain, trying to adjust her shoe. When she struck his windshield, he saw her face with large frightened eyes for just a few seconds and then she was gone.

    He stopped the car, his heart racing and his breath fast and short and he looked for her. She lay several feet behind the car, a twisted mess, unmoving. He turned the car around and drove close to her. Her hand twitched and her eyes suddenly flew open, pleading with him to help her.

    He sped up and disappeared into the cold fall night.

    154 words

  3. Riding With Strangers
    By Lisa McCourt Hollar

    Diana’s mother had always told her not to accept rides from strangers, yet what choice did she have? The rain wasn’t letting up and even with the umbrella, she was getting soaked. A car was coming and she moved closer to the side of the nearly deserted road, hoping to avoid being splashed by a puddle as it pulled up alongside.

    “Looks like you need a ride.”

    The man wasn’t alone in the car. A woman sat in the passenger seat, eyeing Diana warily.

    “My car broke down a few miles back and my damn mobile died on me.”

    “Hop on in. We’ll give you a ride back to town.”

    “Darren, I’m not sure…”

    “It will be fine,” Darren said. “Besides, she’s wet, we can’t leave her.”

    Diana opened the door, smiling her gratitude. The headlights from a passing car bounced off the door, reflecting burning eyes. Diana fingered the knife hidden in her hand.

    Word Count: 155

  4. Tears For a Bell Forever Rung

    “Isn't this chuffing' dandy?” she snarled, “300 quid of vintage attire ruined!” Her hat had been blown away somewhere into the night. Her umbrella was no less bedraggled and blathered up than was her very soul at this juncture.

    Damn that taistral, Ian! He’d bollocked things up good and for all tonight!

    There they’d been, all huggered together with a round dozen of their besties. The pints had flowed no less freely than their laughter, until he’d brought it all to a screaming halt.

    With nary a warning, he leaned across and kissed Gwen squarely on the lips. The whip-crack slap of her hand to his cheek left the lot of them sitting in awkward silence.

    She’d fled into the night. The sole saving grace of the rain was that it masked her bitter tear, tears shed for a bell forever rung and for a lifetime friendship forevermore destroyed in the blink of an eye.

    155 words @klingorengi

  5. Do you dare? It’s a question we all ask ourselves. Not out loud. In our heads. Do you dare live on the edge?
    The door with burning eyes can give you that. Again, do you dare? You dream of walking the streets of gay Paris. Have a picture? It’ll transport your there, but it’ll cost you. More than you’ll ever know.
    Do you dare twirl your umbrella in the fragrant rain? Walk the streets, dripping. Dress flowing.
    Come forward. Set your gaze on the flames. Behold, they turn to drops of water running down your legs, plastering your dress to your hips. Men call out their desire, carnal, vulgar. They follow as your hips sway, mesmerizing them. Closer now, they reach for you, ripping flimsy cloth.
    Did I not say it would cost you? Others look into my burning dreams with less virtuous goals. Again I ask, Do you dare?

    @Leo_Godin – 150 words

  6. The eye of the door lock burned me with curiosity.

    “Jenny,” Mother scolded. “Come away from there.”

    “But what’s in the room?” I asked. “Is it sweets? Is there a table piled high with cakes?”

    She laughed, but it sounded fake. Like when she told Mrs. Snyder why we didn’t go to church last Sunday. Mother said lying was ugly.

    In the hazy night, I clutched that long, gold key between trembling fingers. The lock clicked open. The hinges creaked. Behind the door was dark but for a lone light shining on a painting of a car on a rainy road and a girl with an umbrella.

    A lone rain drop dripped across the glass. I touched it, and water danced at my feet instead of carpet. An umbrella, not a key, in my hands. Lights raced at me. The squeal of brakes echoed.

    Behind the wheel of the car, Mother’s triumphant eyes gleamed.

    154 words


    She sits on the edge of the bed and puts on her delicate red heels with shaking hands. I am powerless to stop her.
    “I don’t know what else to say, Maribel.”
    She stands and smooths out her short pink dress, “There’s nothing else to say. You’ve made your choice, and I’ve made mine.”
    I try to catch her as she puts on her coal-black coat, but she pulls away from my touch. We stand at the door with burning eyes. Maribel opens the door and tries to speak. Her chin trembling, she manages one word, “Goodbye.”
    I watch her leave through the rained pelted glass. The bright yellow of her umbrella, the deep green of the trees outside, the blood red of her shoes; the colors all fade from my vision, as the hope and joy and love walks out of my life.
    I am blind without her.

    150 words


    Grey skies and green forests had welcomed me to this lonely corner of the world. It was a perfect retreat for my nightmarish prey; brimming with caves, shadows and superstitions in which to hide. Perfect also, for the hunter. Humanity, left by the wayside, I had more in common with those I hunted than those I protected.

    Perhaps I stared too hard into the darkness. Sometime in the last season I had become lost. Time grew short. If my prey wasn’t apprehended before the equinox, this storm buffeted expanse would become a hellscape. I needed to consult The Witch.

    It was a last resort I pondered walking alongside the freeway. Oncoming traffic pierced me with unblinking headlights, not even slowing to wonder where I may be walking to or from. One could not see The Witch in this life. With a final breath I stepped out to enter the door with burning eyes.

    153 words

  9. Jamie hunched against the cold of the wind, clutching the umbrella so it doesn’t take off without her. If she had ruby slippers, she would want to be on some beach where it didn’t rain. She thought she had a ride home from the party but they had left. Everyone had left. It was like they had forgotten she was there.

    She could see something coming through the wetness, lights shining through the gloom. She waved a hand, trying to get the driver’s attention. The hearse pulled to a stop next to her. A lighter flickered, reflecting a door with burning eyes.

    The passenger door opened by an unseen hand and she peered in, seeing a man at the wheel
    “Welcome back from your trip, mistress.” The man turned his head, the left half of his face a mass of disfigured tissue. “The master will be glad you’re back early.”

    150 words

  10. What on earth was she doing out here in these conditions? I hadn’t seen any cars broken down on the side of the road, so she probably wasn’t on her way to get gas or a mechanic. She could be going BACK to her car, farther along, but if so, she was still sans anything to help her.

    I slowed down because she was so close to the traffic lane that I didn’t want to hit her and I could, at least, offer her a ride. Before I got there, though, she stopped, turned away from the road and appeared to be knocking.

    After she knocked, a door covered with burning eyes materialised and opened. She walked through it, then it closed and vanished.

    “It’s a good thing I’m on my way to get drunk,” I thought, “’cause, when I talk about this, nobody will ever believe I was sober.”

    150 Words

  11. Road to Nowhere

    The highway was slick and shiny from the combination of oil, sleet and rain. Her umbrella swayed as each gust of wind tried to tug it from her clenched hands. Her thin jacket flapped around her, no match for the weather.

    Cars rushed past, drivers oblivious. Trees lined both sides of the road. Set further back from the road, she noticed a yellow light. With burning eyes, she peered through the rain, looking for a door. She wondered if anyone there would give her shelter.

    A fierce gust of wind snapped the umbrella’s supports, and ripped it from her hands. Drenched, she watched another car speed by, on its way somewhere more important than here.

    She looked at the house nestled in the woods. She thought of home. Her shoulders slumped. There was no home for her now. With one last wistful look, she continued down the road to nowhere.

  12. My happiest days were living with Marie, finally loving someone since the accident. I watched her sleep, sang comfort after she dumped that idiot Brian, shook her awake when she overslept.

    Wanting her to know she wasn't alone, I helped her find that article about my death. As she read, I squeezed her hand. She screamed at my touch, and fled.

    Waiting, I pushed a lost necklace out of the vent, and wrote "Sorry" using dust.

    When Marie returned, she let _him_ in. "Get my things, Brian, I'll wait outside."

    She walked through the rain, using his umbrella. I watched her through the door with burning eyes when, behind me, Ryan discovered the necklace. He grabbed it, grinning. I could've killed him.

    But then he'd be stuck here too–something worse than loneliness?

    He paused before leaving, carrying Marie's bags. "Hey, ghostie? Thanks to you, she took me back."

    Then I was alone. Again.

    Rish Outfield
    155 words

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