Today's lucky number is 26

But "Why?" I hear you ask. Well, I picked the number 26 because it's my age and I needed to pick as number! See, I'm wily.

So. This week's fantabulous challenge for Numbers Thursday is to write a complete story in 26 sentences.

It can be written in any genre and style, it just has to be 26 sentences long. This is an ongoing thing so you have plenty of time to think up a piece of of genius to submit.

Post your stories in the comments sections and be sure to tell everyone you have ever met to join in!



  1. I figured I'd give it a go too! Her is my 26 sentence story.


    Alex stands before the mirror and stares at his reflection. The hired suit fits him perfectly, sculpting his shoulders and highlighting the solemn darkness of his eyes. The suit is black: funeral black. His mother would have been proud to see him looking so smart, so grown up. But she's gone. Alex takes a deep breath and swallows the now familiar lump of sadness in his throat. His mother wouldn't have wanted him to wallow, he tells himself. She would want to see him move on, be happy.

    He turns from the mirror and walks out of the room where the air is thick with the scent of lilies. It is a scent he will for ever more associate with his mother's funeral... but lilies were her favourite and he had wanted to do anything to make sure that this day, of all days, is perfect for her.

    In the corridor are other men dressed in smart, funeral-black suits. There are a few women still loitering outside the doors to the church hall, already dabbing at their eyes even though the ceremony is still a few minutes from starting. Alex glances around the room, scanning the assembled faces for his best friend. The man in question, Mark Thomas, is stood beside a table, upon which the neat little booklets of hymns are strewn. Alex walks to his friend, takes a deep breath, and offers a shaky smile.

    Mark speaks in a low tone, his eyes sombre and sympathetic.“How are you holding up, buddy?” he asks, quietly.

    Alex says nothing. In truth, he's not even sure he can speak; his throat feels choked and silenced with emotion. Mark seems to understand and he gently puts an arm on Alex's shoulder, leading him into the church hall where everyone is waiting for him.

    Everyone except her.

    Alex closes his eyes and tries to breathe. Finally, the music starts and everyone in the room stands. With the funeral-scent of lilies strong in the air, the men in mourning-black suits and their prettily dressed wives turn to watch her, Alex's bride, who stands at the end of the isle, dressed in a pure, white gown: wedding white. Alex lets all of his bottled up emotions play across his face and a tear rolls over his cheek. He has never been so happy.


  2. I wrote this using numbered bullet points to keep track of the sentence count. Here's hoping I'm not the only one who goes to the effort!

    He he. I won't hold my breath :-)



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