ABOUT THE CONTEST – Every quarter writersweekly.com holds a 24-hour short story contest. The stories are given a prompt at the opening of the contest and contestants must submit a story within the 24-hour period. The length is given between 500 and 2000 words. The cost is $5.00 and three prizes are offered and countless honorable mentions.
This entry was my first attempt and prizes have not been awarded yet. Enjoy! Please consider entering your own short story. It is a lot of fun! So is the SIWC contest.
The Prompt for the Spring 2025 Contest
She was on her annual trek to the Spring Fair to obtain that one essential item. She walked quickly, ignoring the tiny purple flowers dancing in the breeze. It had been a hard winter. While she knew it was wrong, this year she’d have to try to steal it…
My Story @ 849 words by Harald Tomesch
The Sting
Winter sieged against Adriana’s kingdom, relentless, cruel. The assault of cold and hunger tested the very marrow of her resolve. Adriana had kept her family alive—barely. Adriana had a will as unyielding as the frost that still encased her home. But spring had returned, and with it hope. The entry to Adriana’s castle, once distinct and approachable, had failed. The space was now protected by sentries. They patrolled with the sting of their command. Frequently, they failed. The portico, like a moat, protected every soul in her tiny world. Adi’s door was gone—ripped away by a ferocious winter avalanche. Without that magical door, Adi’s colonial estate would be exposed, vulnerable to a horde of tiny pesky invaders that could bring ruin upon them all.
Adriana, ever pragmatic, summoned her closest advisors.
“We need a new royal portico, complete with broom and brush to sweep, scrub and scrape even the mightiest intruder. And now!”
Adriana’s voice stung. Pointed. Piercing. Commanding.
“I’ve heard whispers about a Scarborough Fair,” she buzzed. “Apicoltura Rossi, the architect, is showcasing his latest regal designs and doors. If survival is a game, then we’ll play it better than anyone.”
Adriana hatched a plan. A swarm of commandos, her den of thieves, were set. In the late afternoon, with the promise of dusk, they followed Adi’s command. The sun as their compass, they were in a practiced formation—determined. You could hear each one hum, “Are you goin’ to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme . . .” Their souls pulsating over fair meadows, “To fight for a cause . . . Adi, the true love of mine.”
Led by Finona herself, their first attempt was—a disaster. The robbers returned triumphantly with a door—Rossi’s finest portico, gleaming like golden armor—only to discover it was too large. The craftsmen buzzed, their murmurs, all static. All the queen’s horses, all the queen’s men couldn’t put humpty-dumpty together again.
“You’ve stolen a door the size of Texas!” Adi exclaimed. The ill-fitting heist wedged against her castle’s gaping entrance. “Are we giants?”
Fiona, the tactician, shuffled awkwardly. “Well, Your Majesty, we didn’t exactly have thyme for . . . precise measurements.”
Adriana twitched in frustration. “Then, it’s Plan B, honey! Build me a lattice about the entrance—with a honeycomb feel to it. Let the impossible take shape. Make it stand out. Something striking, so Hadely’s kingdom, across the valley, knows we’re not to be trifled with.”
The workers got to it, fashioning a façade that looked more like golden arches than a functional entrance. For a moment, Adriana thought it might work—until the first gust of wind sent the entire structure cascading down.
“Enough!” Adriana snapped. “We’re going back to Rossi’s, and this time, we’re taking the smaller—back door.”
Adriana’s army took off again, a determined squadron swarmed across the twilight. But even with Adriana’s meticulous planning, distractions were inevitable. As they flew, the meadow below came alive—the scent of blooms. Purple coneflowers swayed in the breeze, their petals, a siren song, calling Adi’s workers.
“Look at those beauties!” young Lila, buzzed, veering dangerously close to the flowers.
“Focus, Lila! Move!”
But Lila wasn’t the only one. The swarm was slowing, their attention captured by the tantalizing scent. Adriana groaned, her wings working overtime to keep her temper in check.
“Enough distractions! Anyone caught loitering will be denied my elixir of mead. And I mean the good stuff, not that watered down nonsense from the dandelion patch.”
The threat worked. The swarm refocused, arriving at the fairgrounds just as the last rays of sun dipped below the horizon. The back door stood before them, a masterpiece of engineering with bristles that promised to sweep every mite and speck of dust from their uniforms.
Adriana surveyed the area, her mind a fog of calculations. Rossi’s security team was fanning disorienting smoke towards them. And now, as if Rossi had anticipated their return, a net hung about his designs, ready to ensnare any would-be intruders.
“Impossible,” Bert droned.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Adriana snapped. “We’re not amateurs. We steal for a living.”
Adi exercised military dominion. “Fiona, disable the net. Bert, handle the smoke.”
Operations began. Fiona’s team chewed through the netting with daring efficiency. Bert’s drones dispersed the smoke before it could disorient the others.
Reaching her prize, Adriana directed. “Lift, my warriors! Show me the strength of the Apidae family!”
They heaved, their hearts and legs beating furiously. The door creaked, groaned, and came free. Cheers erupted as they carried their battle prize back to the hive, the workers buzzing with triumph.
This time, the door fit—perfectly. The bristles gleamed in the moonlight, their fortress gate restored. Adriana watched as her family streamed through the entrance, their tiny bodies protected once more, every mite swept away.
As the wind rustled through Scarborough, Adriana turned her gaze upon the horizon. She wasn’t just the hive’s true love. She was Adi. Ancient queen of the Apidae Bee family, who once again proved that her colony would endure—one daring sting at a time.
