"Is a puzzlement." Jenna loved that song. It summed up her life and the world around her these days.
"And it puzzle me to learn that though a man may be in doubt of what he know, Very quickly will he fight. He'll fight to prove that what he does not know is so!"
Jenna shook her head at the truth of the line. In one sense it depressed her. People still argued over half-truths.
On the other hand, the play was written in 1951. Seventy years later, people still fight to be right when they don't really know anything.
It was a puzzle, a mystery, and a riddle. John had lost his car keys again, and he spent the last 30 minutes frantically searching for them. He checked all the places they could be: the side of the sofa, on the table, under the bed - they had vanished! They had not vanished at all, he actually lost them last week on the No 12 bus from Twickenham. They were found by a young artist - Sebastian - and he used them in an abstract art piece called "Welded Love" that was now on a boat halfway to a Jamaican art gallery.
Those look like interesting games! I wish you luck. That was another moving micro fiction from you today...
🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒
The children ran around the tree, shouting boisterously. An old man hobbled out from the churchyard and stuck out his cane, tripping up the leader. The rest quickly stumbled to a halt.
“Hey, mister, what’d you do that for?”
The old man glanced at the tree. “Don't you know the legend of that monkey puzzle tree? The devil is trapped inside, and if you wake him up, he'll give you a monkey's tail."
The oldest boy sneered, “Where'd you hear that fairytale, old man?”
The man turned, using his prehensile tail to pull the boy to his feet. “Experience, lad. Hard experience.”
Chauncey was unquestioned poobah of the Gamesplayer Club. Until Jasper moved in. The newcomer bested the incumbent in a steady stream of contests from gin rummy to Jenga. Down to his last card, Chauncey challenged the seemingly invincible upstart to Chauncey’s favorite game. The jigsaw. Mastered as a sickly child. The contest provided the combatants an identical puzzle, Seurat pointillist gobbledygook. Chauncey slew his improbably in ten minutes. Peered over to see to his horror that Jasper was cooling his heels. Long finished. The new king side-eyed Chauncey’s opus with a dismissive sniff. “Quaint. You assembled yours colored side up.”
A man approached their local challenge stand, red embers brightening with each step across his charcoal skin. His gaze quickly searched for a known name over the ladies’ names posted. Finding it, he examined the challenge rock. Within the attached pouch, he retrieved the true puzzle, the challenge of the lady. He attempted but fell short on time.
The next day, he reattempted it, as well as the next. The lady herself conversed with him occasionally. One day, after many more, she showed him the solution to her puzzle. Shortly after, two flames became fire, and birthed a tiny flame.
Miguel, I am in the process of dissolving my household and reducing my possessions to the absolute minimum. Also I am also. So no I cannot offer pledging for the interesting games. I give you 102 words of a Puzzle instead:
100mg of a Puzzle with Trees, a Forrest and a Canyon.
A puzzle, I thought. My life is a puzzle. Missing pieces, edges torn, some parts warped from trying too hard to fit them. For years, blank spaces. Not metaphorically—truly gone. I remembered nothing. Then fragments returned, not as truth, but as echoes. The brain doesn’t store—it recreates. So each piece wasn’t found, it was born again. That’s when I knew: I’d never solve it. Never complete the image on the box I never got. I traded puzzles for forests. Got lost in trees. Then holes appeared. Real holes. And the Canyon whispered, I’m not a puzzle. I am the shape around it.
PROMPT: PUZZLE
THE PUZZLE
She placed all the pieces on the table, hoping to make sense of them.
It quickly became obvious, though, there were going to be several parts of the puzzle missing.
Which was frustrating.
But then, it was her own fault for cutting up and throwing away the wrong credit card… 😎
April 11 Puzzle 100 words
"Is a puzzlement." Jenna loved that song. It summed up her life and the world around her these days.
"And it puzzle me to learn that though a man may be in doubt of what he know, Very quickly will he fight. He'll fight to prove that what he does not know is so!"
Jenna shook her head at the truth of the line. In one sense it depressed her. People still argued over half-truths.
On the other hand, the play was written in 1951. Seventy years later, people still fight to be right when they don't really know anything.
Backed 👍👍👍
❤️❤️❤️ Thanks Jon!
It was a puzzle, a mystery, and a riddle. John had lost his car keys again, and he spent the last 30 minutes frantically searching for them. He checked all the places they could be: the side of the sofa, on the table, under the bed - they had vanished! They had not vanished at all, he actually lost them last week on the No 12 bus from Twickenham. They were found by a young artist - Sebastian - and he used them in an abstract art piece called "Welded Love" that was now on a boat halfway to a Jamaican art gallery.
Those games sound really fun and imaginative! Good luck with them... 😎👍
Cool game, Miguel! What’s the age range for this?
Both are easily playable 8+ Project L is definitely more oriented toward children while Square One would work better for older kids 😁
Thanks! I have a 6 (and 3)year old, but we do love puzzles.
Those look like interesting games! I wish you luck. That was another moving micro fiction from you today...
🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒
The children ran around the tree, shouting boisterously. An old man hobbled out from the churchyard and stuck out his cane, tripping up the leader. The rest quickly stumbled to a halt.
“Hey, mister, what’d you do that for?”
The old man glanced at the tree. “Don't you know the legend of that monkey puzzle tree? The devil is trapped inside, and if you wake him up, he'll give you a monkey's tail."
The oldest boy sneered, “Where'd you hear that fairytale, old man?”
The man turned, using his prehensile tail to pull the boy to his feet. “Experience, lad. Hard experience.”
scrabble? Get out your Thesaurus!
Chauncey was unquestioned poobah of the Gamesplayer Club. Until Jasper moved in. The newcomer bested the incumbent in a steady stream of contests from gin rummy to Jenga. Down to his last card, Chauncey challenged the seemingly invincible upstart to Chauncey’s favorite game. The jigsaw. Mastered as a sickly child. The contest provided the combatants an identical puzzle, Seurat pointillist gobbledygook. Chauncey slew his improbably in ten minutes. Peered over to see to his horror that Jasper was cooling his heels. Long finished. The new king side-eyed Chauncey’s opus with a dismissive sniff. “Quaint. You assembled yours colored side up.”
Latest Squatter News
It has been a puzzle
How to try and muzzle
The filthy squatters who
Have made our paradise blue
He got rid of one woman
And brought another one in
Who had a big barking dog
Along with the shep,brown as a log
So yesterday the dog bit
My love who had a fit
Did the dog have a rabies shot ?
We didn't know a lot
about the creeps who decided
To live where we resided
So, I came to conclude
I would call the law about this feud
We want our Paradise back
So since their camper is, for a fact
Halfway on our country lane
The law will take away our pain.
And haul their wayward camper away
A give us a brighter day
Bu you never know
When you cross a redneck what he' ll show
Up with to get us back
So my prayers I hope won't lack
For God to Watch over the farm
And if I disappear from Substack,
There would be reason for my end
But just in case ,Adieu, my friends.
It's been grand, I must confess
You people are the best !
Thank you , Miguel !
Thank you , Scott !
Good luck to you...
Thank you, Jeannine!
A man approached their local challenge stand, red embers brightening with each step across his charcoal skin. His gaze quickly searched for a known name over the ladies’ names posted. Finding it, he examined the challenge rock. Within the attached pouch, he retrieved the true puzzle, the challenge of the lady. He attempted but fell short on time.
The next day, he reattempted it, as well as the next. The lady herself conversed with him occasionally. One day, after many more, she showed him the solution to her puzzle. Shortly after, two flames became fire, and birthed a tiny flame.
Miguel, I am in the process of dissolving my household and reducing my possessions to the absolute minimum. Also I am also. So no I cannot offer pledging for the interesting games. I give you 102 words of a Puzzle instead:
100mg of a Puzzle with Trees, a Forrest and a Canyon.
A puzzle, I thought. My life is a puzzle. Missing pieces, edges torn, some parts warped from trying too hard to fit them. For years, blank spaces. Not metaphorically—truly gone. I remembered nothing. Then fragments returned, not as truth, but as echoes. The brain doesn’t store—it recreates. So each piece wasn’t found, it was born again. That’s when I knew: I’d never solve it. Never complete the image on the box I never got. I traded puzzles for forests. Got lost in trees. Then holes appeared. Real holes. And the Canyon whispered, I’m not a puzzle. I am the shape around it.
Your 102 words are more than enough Jay! Thank you so much for the continued support
The Puzzle
Prompt by: THE FICTION DEALER: Microdose on the word Puzzle, with 100 words!
He stared at the puzzle for a long time. His eyes flicked up and down, left and right, and still no other part of him moved.
His opponent noticed the sweat pouring rivulets down his face.
The audience sensed the tension building to levels that kept raising the stakes.
Suddenly a twinge started at the corner of his mouth. The eyes pondered as the mirth became reflected in his lip movements.
His eyes flickered as his hand moved forward, then back, as he took one more look at the board with serious intentions.
“Checkmate,” he cried as his opponent wept.
The best game in the world!