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Weekly Contest #142
Oh shit. He’s standing at the door waiting for me.“You’re late.” Angela’s new boss held up his arm and pointed repeatedly at his watch. “Two minutes. To be precise. Ask Miss Warboyes to man the front desk and come into my office as soon as you’ve sorted yourself out. I want a word with you.”“Yes, Mr. Davies.”Two bloody minutes. What’s two bloody minutes? Angela mumbled under her breath as she hung up her coat and put her handbag in the locker in the staff room. Then she stormed over to Mr. Davies’ office, which was neatly set in a corner at ...
Weekly Contest #141
“I don’t believe it. Some idiot’s given me a one-star review.” “It doesn’t matter, does it?” “Yes, it does. It matters to me. They’ve said my article’s too short. Of course, it’s too bloody short. It‘s meant to be short. It tells you how many words there are above it. Can’t they read? And they’ve mentioned spelling and grammar mistakes. There are supposed to be spelling and grammar mistakes. That’s the whole point of the article—idiots. Grammar and spelling mistakes and writing short articles when they should be long ones—that’s what it’...
Weekly Contest #140
I thought JFK was assassinated on a Wednesday. Why? Because I always went to the cinema that day. The picture house at Eastbourne was the only one that showed a fresh film midweek and weekends. I could watch a new programme twice in seven days and different films at the other three cinemas. There was little else to do at the seaside town, especially during the winter months.I was sixteen and in my second job since leaving school. After paying out tax, insurance, superannuation and union money, I had little left of my weekly wage. I paid gran...
I remember the good old days. Aunt Alice was always saying this. She’d go on about kids being better behaved back then. How they knew their place and how they sat quietly and only said something when spoken to. Kids were happy to play outside in the rain or the snow and with cardboard boxes they used for make-believe games. Not magnifyingly expensive toys like today’s kids have. She’d also go on about designer clothing and how every little kid from three upwards these days owns a mobile phone. How children have got no manners because the ...
Weekly Contest #139
Grow up, she said in her letter. Her words cut deep and upset me. I thought she was my best, my one and only friend. I thought she was the person I could turn to when I needed someone.There was nobody at work I could talk to or even wanted to talk to. Granny, Auntie, Uncle and Cousin Bob who I was living with at the time were not the conversational type and so I could not turn to them either.I felt lost and alone.I wrote to Daphne and told her I felt like a bird with a broken wing. In my mind, I imagined a Blackbird with one wing dangling li...
Weekly Contest #138
I woke up. Or did I? I wasn’t sure I’d even been asleep. But then I remembered a dream…..or was it a nightmare? I must have slept unless, of course, I was daydreaming, but a daydream is usually about something good, like a holiday or becoming a pop star.In my nightmare, I was neither on holiday nor was I becoming a pop star. I was, in fact, running away. Running from what I don’t know. Then I was on my hands and knees clawing at the little gaps in the pavement where moss and grass grows. I was tearing at the grass and the dirt flew up in my ...
Weekly Contest #137
She pushed the letter between her thigh and the seat of the kitchen chair as her daughter came into the room.“Was that the post I heard?”“Yes, the usual rubbish. I’ve thrown it in the bin.”“I’m off to work now.”Jenny gave her mother a gentle kiss on the forehead, picked up her handbag, and headed for the front door.Grace brushed her cheek as if trying to rub away the wrinkles that she was sure had multiplied since her forty-third birthday last week. Seeing her twenty-five-year-old daughter swoop up her handbag, hook it over her shoulder and ...
Weekly Contest #136
John’s hand flapped around on top of the small side table until it made contact with the bedside lamp switch. He raised his head slightly off the pillow, opened one eye and looked at the clock 03.55. Glad he’d woken before the alarm went off, no need to disturb anyone this morning. Shoving his legs into his track suit bottoms he shivered slightly in the cold air but felt much warmer as he zipped up his fleece and pulled it around his neck. The torch app on his mobile phone afforded him some light as he crept downstairs, his kitbag slung ov...
Weekly Contest #135
It was early morning. Mavis was walking her terrier dog Billy in the park. Quite unexpectedly, Billy began pulling on the lead and dragging Mavis toward some thick bushes. She hung on tightly, struggling to control him, but he dragged her nearer and nearer the overgrown shrubs. She almost ended up falling over in them.“Stop it Billy. Whatever has got into you this morning.”Suddenly, Mavis lifted her hand to her mouth to smother a scream. There, among the dead leaves, empty cans of beer and sweet wrappers, was what looked like the side of som...
Weekly Contest #134
Once upon a time in a kingdom far from here there was an island and on that island lived a tribe of women who were so beautiful it is said you would not want to leave the island but would want to lie in their arms forever being caressed and loved. The women are tall, slender, with tanned skin, long dark wavy hair, blue eyes, small noses and full lips. It is also said that the waters around the island are treacherous, filled with sunken sailing ships that floundered on the jagged rocks and all on board eaten by the sea monsters that swam ...
Weekly Contest #133
PLEASE NOTE—if you suffer from arachnophobia then please do not read this story. Blood, guts, gore, graphic. Swearing. Adrian looked around the cages to make sure the doors were locked. After checking the inhabitants had enough food and water, he grabbed the jacket he’d stuffed between two terrariums, dimmed the lights, and headed for the outside world. Having secured the inner and outer laboratory doors, he ambled down the corridor and stepped into the warm sunshine, shielding his eyes from the glare. He needed a break, something swe...
Weekly Contest #132
Are you there, God? It’s me. I met you at the Wailing Wall. Remember? I went to Jerusalem with my friend Cynthia and we both placed our hands on the wall. Cynthia told me we were supposed to pray, but all I could think of was you already know it all, God. You already know what I’ve been through. So I didn’t feel I needed to pray. I just said, you know it all, God, and left it at that, because, at the time, I didn’t have any answers. That’s one reason Cynthia, and I went on that pilgrimage trip together. We’d both been through so much, and we...
Weekly Contest #131
NB(swearing and indications of abuse)Jim strolled into the drawing room. It smelled of furniture polish, perfume and after shave. He stood before the ornate fireplace, his hands held loosely behind his back. His eyes skimmed the mostly bowed heads and solemn faces. The huge gold-framed mirror behind him reflected the multi-faceted chandelier. In the centre of the room stood an oval mahogany table and six chairs everyone had avoided. Instead, they crowded on the three sofas and four armchairs scattered about the drawing room.Jim took an in-br...
Weekly Contest #130
The car comes to a halt at the far edge of the car park behind the bank. Tom sits quietly for a moment as if in a trance, eyes forward. Only his left arm moves as he pulls on the handbrake. His eyes drop, focussing on his finger, pressing the button to release the boot lid. Slowly, he turns his head and glares.“Are you going to help me or not?”Jim lets out a puff of breath, leans his elbow on the car door and stands up. His shoes crunch on the dark gravel. The car park is deserted. With wide eyes scanning the area, he moves to the rear of th...
My name is Marmaduke Dittman. Or Marmy for short. Mum (she calls herself that) tells all her friends that I have a pedigree as long as your arm and my pedigree name is Marmaduke Dittman.Mum doesn’t know where the Dittman bit comes in. She says it’s something to do with a prefix or a suffix or something like that. But the Marmaduke bit is because I’m orange. They call me orange with orange eyes, but really I’m ginger, just like the cat next door that often tries to pick a fight with me.Mum shows her friends the enormous sheet of paper that ha...
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