"Scabs" by Amber Sparks: (and a photo and word prompt challenge for you)...
Dear Writers, a few years ago one of my favorite writers, Amber Sparks, acclaimed author of The Unfinished World, And I Do Not Forgive You, visited my other Substack Newsletter “Prompts of Resilience” (formerly known as Pokrass Prompts) and wrote a tiny and brilliant story to the prompt I gave her. The story is “Scabs”, and it lives in the Hall of Fame section (if you go there, check out the other amazing commissioned stories).
As most of you know, my favorite writing strategy (and the inspiration for my newsletter “Prompts of Resilience”) is to assign an unusual old photo and a list of disconnected words.. And then, to set a timer.. 1,2, 3… GO! The goal is to make “sense” of the photo by working with the very unlikely words. All of my collections are filled with stories that would not have been born without found photos and random words.
In this spirit, I served my willing collaborator the photo you see here, and asked her to write a 200 word story and to see if she might incorporate one or more of the assigned prompt words.
The piece Amber conjured for us is a masterwork of compression. I love “Scabs”, and often teach it. It a joy to share it with those of you who have never read it.
Prompt: Today, I’d like to offer you all the same photo with random words just for fun. Working with the same photo, if you can come up with a 200 word story that is entirely different from Amber Sparks’ story. Offering it a completely different narrative is part of the challenge.. See if you can incorporate 2 or more of the random words.
Paid subscribers, please feel free to share your stories in the comments section! HAVE FUN…
Don’t
A pair of sisters skating toward school, not wanting to arrive. A problem between desire and duty. (Mom’s sugar cookies or whatever chaps Dad’s ass). An idea is hatched. A plan made. A bargain struck. Back home, the slip of a paring knife intercepts. A deep cut. A burst of curse. A rolling on the kitchen floor. A scream and an echo. Twin bleeds. Bleeding twins. A rush to the rescue. Mom’s healing kisses, Dad’s sting of iodine. His careful wrap of bandages. Sisters smug and snug (eating the cookies). The discovery that scabs pulled off one sister by the other prolong the supply of cookies. The suspicions. Mom whispering with Dad. The camera installed. A confrontation of freshened wounds with the evidence. Wounds healing all over again, the cookies all gone. Then a gradual knit of skin, the fading of pink, the tattoo of scars. A warning to all scabs waiting to happen worn on sashes thrown across the sisters’ shoulders.
Scab Busters
The Poison Ivy League knew for their first out-of-town roller derby they’d need the big—or—little guns. The Martin Twins, known as Lizzy Thwartin’ and Belle Scarr, had been born in skates (bless their poor mother). They’d help unleash fury upon The Scabs in Dallas, Saturday night.
The referee tried disqualifying them based on their age/height. P.I.L.’s captain claimed they were eighteen, that years of chain smoking stunted their growth. The crowded warehouse smelled of sweat and sawdust. The twins’ sashes mocked their opponents: Don’t-Be-A-Scab.
Their sugar cube teeth deceived The Scabs’ blocker into thinking it’d be easy to knock Lizzy down and shine the track with her face. Belle saw it, skated behind the blocker, parting her knock-knee curtains, sending her over the outer wall.
The Scabs huddled, planning to take Belle out with a subtle leg sweep. The Scabs’ jammer couldn’t resist, at the sound of the whistle, she grabbed Belle’s hair underneath her chipped green helmet. Lizzy did a backwards surf, stopping short, colliding with the jammer, setting off a chain reaction as Scabs tumbled like fleshy dominoes.
Lizzy remembered their dad’s dying words: God’s given the world two of you, in case one warning isn’t enough.