#SwiftFicFriday – Week 1 Prompt

#SwiftFicFriday – Week 1 Prompt

Welcome to the new and improved word sprint writing prompt series – #SwiftFicFriday!

If you missed the rules post, click here. Below is a quick rundown of what you need to know:

– The prompt will stay open for 30 mins. Use the time however you want.
– Include social media links/handles (Twitter, FB, etc) & word count in the comment with your submission.
– Submission must be between 150-300 words.
– All stories are property of the authors.
– Winner will be determined over the weekend via reader votes.

Let the reboot commence! We’ll start with a personal favorite prompt-type: Incorporate the phrase in your piece. The phrase is included in the word count.


“That’s not what happened.”

Happy writing!

3 thoughts on “#SwiftFicFriday – Week 1 Prompt

  1. That’s not how it happened, 288 Words, by Terry Brewer, @Stories2121

    I wasn’t there. If anyone asked, I wasn’t there. But no one ever asked and I was always there. Friday nights at nine. I was “known to be” at a club across town. No one ever asked.

    Every Friday, like clockwork, she came into Room 524 at 9:10. All you need to know is that “she” is my wife, and like clockwork he came into Room 524 at 9:15. All you need to know is that “he” was not me. I was in adjoining Room 525. I’d put a pinhole in the wall. It was almost obscured by a hibiscus or whatever the green plant was. A small camera was there, attached by wire to my laptop.

    I had plenty of video. If she thought she’d take me to the cleaners in the divorce she was mistaken. She’d be lucky to keep whatever dress the skank wore when she got to court.

    I had more than enough. But this wasn’t for my lawyers. This was for me. She was pretty and I liked to watch. It was the only time I ever saw her naked anymore. So I watched on my laptop. I was, um, making a personal adjustment to my attire and looked away for a moment. It’s when I heard the shot. I looked and he was shot.

    I rushed into the room and before I knew it she’d handed the gun to me. Which, like a fool, I took. I stood there staring at the blood and the body.

    Cops were there in minutes. “Your wife said you burst in and shot him. “That’s not how it happened. I’ve got video. They went into the room. My laptop was gone. “That’s not how it happened.”


  2. “Alright, kid. You understand your rights?” I made my way into the radio station to catch the end of the uniformed officer’s spiel. She held a shiny set of handcuffs in her left hand. “You can make life a whole lot easier by telling me now. You two got into a fight? A lovers’ quarrel?”

    “No. God, no. That’s not what happened.” He buried his head against his knees. “Please, stop.”

    That voice.

    “What did happen, then?” I crouched down, carefully touching the arm covering his head.

    “I saw it.” He peeked up at me, tear-swollen eyes staring into my soul. “But I didn’t do it. I only tried to help.”

    “No one else is here, kid,” the uni said with a sigh.

    “Please believe me.”

    If innocence could be judged from an expression—well, there would be a lot less strain on local jurisprudence. But this man had a pretty rock solid alibi from my POV. I glanced over my shoulder at the uni ready to slap cuffs on the kid.

    “I guess you’re not much of a radio person, Officer Lee?”

    Lee blinked at me.

    “What’s that mean?”

    “Your body’s in the hallway. With no signs of being dragged here from there.” I pointed to the sound booth twenty feet down the hall, where the ON AIR sign continued to broadcast silence, because, “He’s the DJ.”

    “Okay, and?”

    Jeez, where did the locals recruit these days?

    “And he was live on the air when your murder was going down.”

    250 WIP-ish words

    Liked by 1 person

Tell me what you think!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.