We’re back to normal this week – just the one challange:
Can you tell a story in 30 words using the following words in it somewhere:
- DEVIOUS
- BRICK
- CHICKEN
- TUNNEL
Last week I gave you two challenges to take part in if you wished. The first was to write a story of 7 words using the word IMPOSTER in it somewhere:
Here are your super stories:
Niki Daly:
Flooded house: the plumber was an imposter.
The truth is he was an imposter.
Swallowing my Imposter Syndrome, I corrected Phineas.
No imposter got past the pit.
Not me on the poster, darned imposter.
An old woman in my mirror! Imposter!
The imposter entered the castle: “All mine!”
Imposter is always spelled with eight letters.
You’re an imposter! Joe would never bow!
Imposter? She stole the recipe from Lidl!
He’s an imposter! My ex wasn’t nice!
The imposter hid, while truth awaited discovery.
Murray Clarke:
Imposter Syndrome manifests itself as intellectual self-doubt.
I am a shapeshifter, not an imposter.
Elon Musk is America’s imposter führer wannabe.
My kitchen was raided by an imposter.
Squirreljan:
Beautiful. Huh! Imposter. The mirror never lies.
“Don’t answer the door! It’s an imposter!”
Utahan15 was slightly over the limit:
imposter foster sham dear sir maam i am
–
For the second challenge, you had to write a story in 50 words using the following words somewhere in the story:
- COAT
- PIE
- QUALIFY
- LATIN
- AUNT
- MAZE
You never fail to amaze me with your creativity:
“Cogito, ergo sum. What?”
Mark understood the Latin, but not the clue.
He’d just started the maze in this qualifying run. Elimination here meant death.
He pulled his aunt’s note out of his coat’s pocket. A drawing of a pie?
Pi! That’s it. With a thought he continued to be.
My old aunt likes to take a walk in her garden but walks in circles like she’s in a maze. She walks around, not in a coat but in a toga, eating a pie then she tries talking to herself in Latin, unsure whether to quantify or qualify the ingredients.
Her cool, skinny aunt in the fox fur coat couldn’t qualify for the pie eating contest, despite shamelessly flirting with the Latin Judge. So they entered the corn maze instead. “I really hope we can find our way out,” the aunt said, gripping her niece’s arm.
My aunt’s coat was hurting my eyes. Its colour qualified as torture tool, but she insisted that it was French chic. We ate the pie, then left for a tour around the Latin quarter. If I could lose her in the maze of narrow streets, the Parisian adventure would begin.
Nicola Daly:
I watch her take the pie from the oven and brush it with a coat of glaze.
‘The only way you’ll ever qualify for this pie is if you finish your Latin homework,’ she says.
I stare at the maze of words on the page. My aunt’s a hard taskmaster.
My Latin aunt had to carry her prize-winning pie through a maze at the county fair. If her coat fell off, she wouldn’t qualify for the grand prize. Her coat stayed on the entire time. She won the trophy!
Enter sweepstakes to qualify!
Win a tropical vacation for two to Mexico City in Latin America!
All expenses paid!
Fine print:
Must take Aunt Gert (and her coat) with you.
Must agree to eat python pie.
Must complete Aztec Corn Maze in under five minutes or all expenses your responsibility.
My aunt embroidered a coat of arms on a linen tablecloth in order to qualify for a lineage competition.
The Latin inscription was more than a little tricky as it involved a maze of letters leading to a steak pie, the heart of her design, which represented the local baker.
My aunt left her fur coat in a corn maze last fall. She was lost without it as the air had a chill and she still needed to get to her Latin class. After class she had to hurry home and make a pie to qualifyfor the cake walk.
My Latin aunt wouldn’t qualify for the maze, even though her favorite pie, tiramisu, is the prize. Her green coat looks like part of the maze, a certain disqualification. Ask her to take it off, you say? Then no doubt she’d be rejected, or arrested – she’s an exhibitionist!
Murray Clarke:
Aunt Mabel was a clever old lady who was keen to improve her intellect. In order to qualify for a grant to study Latin, she had to sift through a maze of government regulations, finally eating humble pie by displaying the family coat-of-arms on the front of her woollen jumper.
My aunt gave me a slice of her freshly made, Latin delight pizza pie. It had a coat of ingredients that would qualify it as able to put the maze back in amazing.
She asked me if it was any good, knowing it was.
It was great.
Minnie and her great aunt were a formidable team each year at the Pie Maze Race. The older woman knew Latin-a must to read the race clues to qualify for each level. Minnie took of her coat. It was time to start the race for the Gold Pie Trophy.
The coat of pastry around the pie could almost qualify as short crust? But the Latin recipe written by my aunt was a maze of ingredients that didn’t seem to fit together! Pomegranate and fig? OK, but then anchovy paste? Definitely a Roman feel. And manchego cheese? Insane! Aunty’s triumph!
Squirreljan:
My aunt always quoted Latin at me, vive est cogitare, to live is to think. My aim was to qualify in philosophy, so to ensure I wouldn’t be cold or hungry, I organised a thick coat and a ready supply of pies before entering into the maze of university life.
Aunt Maze, Detective, commanded so loudly, I nearly dropped my freshly-baked pie.
“But it’s Diego, your ‘Latin Lover’,” I teased.
“It’s not Diego! I’m sure!” Auntie insisted. “He’s wearing the wrong coat.”
“How does that qualify?” I frowned. “Diego doesn’t even wear a coat.”
“Exactly!” Auntie exclaimed.
“Clever you, Auntie!”
–
Here are a couple either inside or outside the maximum word limit:
In order to qualify for the Latin pie eating contest Aunt Maze had to wear a Roman hair coat.
The cute coat check girl handed my cliché’d trench and fedora and winked me into night’s maze, ablaze with festival lights, bright revelers, perfect cover.
Tight man whispered, “Qualify in Latin over your aunt’s pacificus pie”
“whizzing … ” … he stared rigid fall into the street.
I should run …
morning coat left the boat
i almost qualify as a human too!
the maze of life is
like deciphering the latin
mass credo urgenti nos!
all my aunts died
and i did not cry
cos i was too young
songs sung blue
only by me
cos in my mystery
mystic miseries
woe only am i!
***
Esther Chilton 
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