Uplifting Friends: WOW 555 Call for Entries

Writing Prompt with Photo by Andrew RennieOh my goodness! Things got so hectic there for a while, I completely forgot to schedule the call for entry post for this week! Just for that, as long as it’s still Friday, you can enter your story. You heard me right! You have all the way until midnight tonight to get your heartwarming or uplifting story submitted to this week’s contest. Here’s the link to the prompt for this week. If you haven’t written your entry yet, there’s still plenty of time!

Rules can be found in the drop down menu on the WOW 555 tab. The winning story will be featured with next week’s prompt while the author gets a little well-deserved two-day promotion on social media!

Before you post your responses into the comments, remember, by doing so, you’re giving me permission to publish your stories without attribution or links until Monday. This is an attempt to keep the focus on the writing. So don’t forget to give your story a title!

The Monday post will identify all authors and include links and Twitter handles if you’ve provided them (hint: include your links and/or Twitter handles with your submission). The story with the most votes will be featured while all others will be listed by title.

Now, get those entries in!

You can either copy/paste your entry in the comments or provide a link to your story. You have until midnight tonight CST!

Wendy Strain

My entire life is full of writing and creativity. Whether copywriting for exciting new projects, crafting web content for creative companies, ghostwriting, editing, coaching, or exploring my own imagination as a fiction writer, I am constantly engaged in stretching boundaries and exploring possibilities.

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6 thoughts on “Uplifting Friends: WOW 555 Call for Entries

  1. The man on the park bench was a fat, dumpy-looking little dude in his early forties.

    Jenko approached him with confidence, his hidden videocam recording the wary, weary expression of someone who sleeps where he can and eats when he’s able. It had been some time since the man had bathed or washed his clothes.

    Jenko kept his voice cordial. “Hey, dude. Merry Christmas.”

    The man nodded. “Merry Christmas.” His eyes widened when he saw the money: one crisp hundred-dollar bill.

    “This is for you, man.”

    The man took the money and nodded. “Thanks. I’ll make good use of it.”

    Jenko nodded back and continued on his way, headed for the parking garage he had picked out earlier. He would be able to watch and follow his subject from a distance, unobserved.

    He glanced back and realized there was no need to wait, his mark was already on the move.

    He trailed behind, patient and methodical, trying not to draw attention to himself. The park was full of scruffy, delapidated-looking men and women of all ages, and Jenko needed anonymity in order to carry out his work of documenting the vices that turned people into homeless vagabonds.

    There was a liquor store up ahead, but to Jenko’s surprise his man walked past it and went into the bodega two doors down.

    Jenko smiled to himself. “Ah. Cigarettes.”

    He strolled past the bodega and took up a post on the far side. He didn’t have to wait very long. The rotund form reappeared on the street carrying two large paper bags, headed back to the park. He was walking faster now, his feet smacking the pavement with a sense of purpose. He had to pause occasionally to shift his grip: the bags were heavy.

    Jenko frowned. This was not what he had expected.

    His mark entered the park and stomped heavily over to a bedraggled-looking woman with a shopping cart. He put the bags on the sidewalk and rummaged around in them, pulling out cans of soup which he presented with a flourish. The woman didn’t speak, but she took the cans.

    The fat man picked up his bags and began to work his way around the park, handing out food to some, instant coffee to others, an occasional candy bar to some of the oldsters. He must have had a pretty good idea of how many people were in the park, because he made it all the way around, neatly folding the now-empty paper bags and shoving them under his shirt, saving them for some purpose of his own.

    Apart from the bags, he had kept nothing for himself.

    Jenko blinked, overcome by a sudden surge of emotion. He regained his composure and walked back to the park bench where the pudgy little man had again taken a seat. The man nodded at him.

    “Hey, how’s it going?”

    Jenko nodded back at him. He didn’t know what to say.

    He rummaged around in his pocket and cleared his throat. He held out the rest of his bait money, not bothering to count it.

    “Uh, I forgot to give this to you earlier. Merry Christmas, dude.”

    The fat man nodded cordially as he took the money. “Thanks, I’ll make good use of it.”

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