“It was a dark, stormy night.”

Penprompter: Shraddha Niphadkar
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1. Submit your fictional stories based on the given prompt without alteration. The given line (prompt) may appear anywhere in the story. Kindly highlight it to be recognised easily. 

2. The submitted story/ies must be between 450-500 words (each). Entries lower than or exceeding the word limit will stand disqualified for the event. (Penmancy Tip:- Use‭ ‬‭ ‬to check your word count.)

3. Writers may submit 3 entries of unique storylines. Only fresh stories are accepted for the event. Previously published stories will not be considered for contention. No Plagiarism. PLEASE.

4. Send in your entries to in a word document along with a 2-3 line bio and a cover picture for the story (optional-you may refer to pixabaydotcom or unsplashdotcom for high quality free photos, preferably above 900×800 pixels). {You need not send your details if you have already sent them, lest you want them replaced} The subject of your mail should be “Entry for QuinTale-07″ (compulsory).

5. Most of all- HAVE FUN!!

P.s.: Last date of submission is March 23, 2019. Winners shall be announced on March 28, 2019.


What better reward than to get instant feedback and encouragement! Get an instant review from fellow writers and readers.

Additionally, earn Penmancy Points. Start earning Penmancy Points as soon as you submit a story.

For details of Penmancy Points: 


Check the stories here:

Memento Mori

For none know when Death will knock on their door, wherefore live today as though ‘twas your last. My friend ...
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The Dark Stormy Night

"Myra, I am leaving for the hospital for my night shift. Dad will take another half an hour to reach ...
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Drive Through the Hills

A railway line was going to being constructed in the hilly town of Badalkot and the Consulting Engineering team was ...
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Bravery or Betrayal

“Good afternoon gentlemen! I am Major Rohit Singh.” Awarded for bravery during the recent cross border skirmish, Major Rohit Singh ...
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Chronicles of ‘Ruth’less

It was a dark, stormy night. In the witching hour, heavy, dingy rain down poured past the lighted street lamps ...
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Even the Dead Can See

Back then, my house was next to a cemetery. It was my habit to watch people bury their loved ones ...
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