50 Word Thursday – Off to see the Wizard.

This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday Challenge, this week hosted by Deb Whittam, who was the original creator of this challenge and I’m thrilled she decided to co-host this challenge with me. Click on the link below to see her post:



And the words:

“David knocked on the door that the wizard had returned to its original dilapidated but one piece style,” – Shadow Pack – Marc Daniel


It was with some trepidation that he’d gone to visit the wizard. Of course, he was sceptical, A Wizard? Come on! All the same though, when the man, draped in robes of black satin with gold and silver symbols over it, opened the door and gave a beckoning gesture, David’s heart began to beat faster.

Inside the room, there was another door inside, a plain, rather drab, door, but as he stared at it, the wizard began to agitate his arms and it was replaced by grand bronze doors that swung open to display a throne room inside.

David was aghast, it seemed that contentious though it was, this man was the real deal. A Wizard! The man waved his arms once more and all was as it was.

David knocked on the door that the wizard had returned to its original dilapidated but one-piece style, and this door swung open to display a plain small room, windowless and uninviting. David stepped in and before he could turn around, the metal door slammed shut, with a ringing sound that echoed in that empty cell.

David frantically banged on the door and screamed but no one came. No one ever came.

[200 Words]


This story also contains the following word prompts:








Empty Gestures – A multiple word prompt poem.

black and gold colored analog watch with leather strap
Photo by Marta Branco on Pexels.com

Empty Gestures

You gave me this new bracelet, but an empty gesture, this is,

When all I really wanted was your loving hugs and kisses,

You bought me some lovely things, a car, a diamond ring,

But when you are miles away from me, they don’t actually mean a thing.

I’m not being contentious, I’m not trying to agitate,

Next to your company, these objects are just inadequate.

I never asked for diamonds, or that pink Cadillac too,

It wasn’t things like that I loved so much, it was only you.

Yet here I sit in my new car, a bracelet around my wrist,

The diamond ring, the clothes, everything, just make a sorry list,

Of items that just show one thing, the empty gestures that you send,

When all I want is your time, your love, why can’t you comprehend?

copyright: Kristian Fogarty 20/August/2019


I have included the following word prompts:





50 Word Thursday #17 – The Romantic Gesture

Debbie Whittam has set a challenge to write a poem or story in 50 words, or multiples of 50 up to a maximum of 250 words, inspired by a picture and include some particular lines.


Here is the story I wrote last week:


This is the Picture:


These are the words:

The old man stopped to look keenly at my attentive and wondering face; and then said

-William Morris from News From Nowhere

Here is my attempt for this week:

The Romantic Gesture

I felt the salty air against my face, the smell of seaweed and sea spray was like perfume to me. It opened my mind and helped me shake off the stresses of my daily life. I just let my feet slowly sink into the soft sand as I strolled along the beach.

Then I stopped and looked down at the sand spellbound.

Someone had written my initials into the sand.

I looked to see who had done it. The water hadn’t washed it away, it must have been done recently.

I only saw a wizened old man sitting on a rock, mending his nets.

The old man stopped to look keenly at my attentive and wondering face; and then said: “Ar, they do say, people who see their name in the sand will come face to face with their destiny.”

I looked at him “Well, that begs the question, who authorized you to put my initials in the sand?”

Then I heard a man’s laughter and from out behind the rock came Michael. He looked handsome, the evening light highlighted his cheekbones and his strong jaw. He was smartly dressed in a linen suit, his blond hair gelled back. I had no idea he had followed me.

“There’s no fooling you Kate, you’re far too cynical to be taken in by a romantic gesture.” He walked towards me pausing to hand some money to the old Fisherman.

He pulled a ring from his pocket and asked: “Will you marry me?”

The End

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 06/September/2018