#CarrotRanch | But I Smile Anyway...

Flash Fiction Challenge – The Real Nanjo Castille #CarrotRanch #FlashFiction @Charli_Mills

I’m taking a chance on one of Charli’s 99-word prompts over at The Carrot Ranch!

During the course of the Ranch Rodeo last month, Charli and her judges received a good few spam entries, and one was rather funny, from Nanjo Castille. You need to click on the prompt link above to see it! The spammed message inspired Charli to create a prompt…

November 9, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a fictional story about The Real Nanjo Castille. You can set any gender, era or genre to reveal the character behind the mystery. You can also imagine the daily life of The Real Nanjo Castille. Go where the prompt leads.

Here’s my take!

The Real Nanjo Castille

Her dad had always been terrible at writing.
Downfall of being a doctor.
When he went to register her birth, instead of stating Margot, he handed them a scrap of paper to read, seeing as he’d wet the baby’s head a little too much the night before.
And so, Nanjo Castille came into existence.
It was obviously an omen.
She was diagnosed with dyslexia as a secondary school student, but help came too late. Reading and writing were never her strong point.
Still, every cloud has a silver lining…
She’s now the most popular human spam bot in existence!

I’m taking a chance on one of Charli’s 99-word prompts over at The Carrot Ranch!

November 2, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story a chair on a porch. Why is it there, and what might it mean? Think about using it as a prop or the main thrust of your story.

Hope this is ok!

Nanna would always be sat there in her chair on the porch.
I would spend hours with her, sat at her feet as a child, playing with my dolls, or reading a book. Sometimes she’d read me a story.
As I got older, she was still there, my sounding board, always giving me sage, simple advice for any problems I was facing.
Today I really need her. It’s a big step I’m about to take. I only wish she was still here…
Looking over, the empty rocking chair slowly creaks, as if encouraging me.
See, she is still here.