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Weekly Contest #275
How much did other journalists have to beg the editor to write a story? "I will come back with THE story, a wonderful one, an honest, personal account from the reserved Belle Nessa, perhaps her last with her illness.” The breeze from outside clamoured up and she opened her eyes. ”I close the windows, foggy now” the Uber driver stiffly explained. The air stifled and clasped at her throat and she felt dizzy.“The air conditioner please!” The driver sighed loudly, but he turned the air conditioner on low. The mist enveloped the car graduall...
Weekly Contest #240
He was always there, in the sounds of his suggestions, in the unspoken glances when she acted out of turn, the cheeky winks he gave when he made a joke about her Mother, in the breeze when she closed her eyes and smelt his woollen suits and face cream.He passed on the Saturday night, after obediently taking the last, tender cup of tea to his wife, invalid in bed - he sat on the chair in the bedroom, relaxed, cradled his head in the cups of his hands, and fell forward into that beautiful, peaceful, slumber of the unbroken. The carer alwa...
Weekly Contest #111
Lapsang Souchong London, 1797 Emily’s long skirts flurried behind her as she stepped off the omnibus and weaved her way down Oxford Street. She was making a beeline to the Apothecary’s next to the huge imposing departmental store, Debenhams. The impressive new pavements were so much easier and pleasant to tread, now that those awful long awnings and signs had been forcefully taken down - no longer protruding into oneself. You could actually hear the carriages’ pleasant clip clopping of hooves at times when they crossed over the stone and...
Weekly Contest #107
The sister was shaking as her hand tremulously unlocked the front door using the key on the small key ring with a miniature slipper. She let herself into the familiar flat and looked around. The light shone in and threw dappled shadows of the tall Parlour Palms gently onto the cream walls. She turned the salt lamp on in the corner and a soft, hazy orange glow diffused through the room. The flat exuded style and taste. She was sure she had left the boots by the entrance- yet there they were by the window: slim, tall, polished and ...
Weekly Contest #86
The broken droplets of glass seemed to shatter and shimmer within her ears; not only was the sound a discordant jangle but also the sharp tiny pin pricks of the cruel edges of this rolling underpass she was travelling down were mercilessly rubbing and crushing within her ear drum. Leena rolled her head from side to side on the edge of sleep and awakening, attempted to shake herself out of the cold, suffocating tunnel with the barbarous spikes; pointy fingers were slowly closing in on her. She tossed and wriggled around, trying to open her st...
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