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Weekly Contest #271
William urges his horse to keep up with Sir Richard and Sir Reginald. The knights break from the trees; the air is loud with thundering hooves and the squawk of disturbed birds, flying to scatter in the thicket. ‘Canterbury,’ says Richard, steering his horse to a halt at the road's edge. He points at the great tower of the cathedral, standing above the stone walls surrounding the city. The sweat of Williams' horse is in his nose, the smell of warm saddle leather bristled with the scent of winter. Dead leaves curl under hooves, whipped up by ...
Weekly Contest #260
1425 ‘Joan?’ The earth is rising. She looks up to see the sky; pale, half hidden by a wall of rolling black. Her stomach lurches and she sits up, wiping the dust from her hair. The sheep bleat, circling around her. Sunlight warms her cheeks. ‘What happened?’ ‘You were shaking,’ says her Mother, blocking out the sun. The sheep are running, the small lambs bobbing up and down behind their mothers as they flee across the field towards the trees. ‘Where am I?’ ‘Home,’ whispers her Mother, kneeling to take her by the hand. The tips of her finger...
Weekly Contest #210
The wipers whimpered across the clouded windshield of the car to reveal a dark and narrow lane; trees reached down from behind weathered walls, channelling the car further and further into the shadow of the wood. The engine of the red Golf mk2 spat and sputtered, its wheels splashing through the puddles across the pox marked road. Ollie King was driving, his narrow eyes squinted to see through the gloom of rain and condensation. 'Put some music on, my password is 6665,' he said, feeling down into the dirty ash tray to find his phone and han...
Weekly Contest #151
‘Stephen? What did you do?’ He uncurled his fingers from around the bottle; it dropped to shatter across the patio tiles. A thousand green shards of light. He turned, his vision a blur, stirring awake to open his eyes and look out across the sea of dark, he thought he was still lost in the fever dream. A monster, huge claws held around his throat as he felt the air rush from his lungs. His vision blurred. Death. ‘Stephen. The police are downstairs, what did you do?’ Perhaps it wasn’t a dream after all. Smoke swirled in the dull light of the ...
Weekly Contest #136
‘You will never know unless you try.’ I had told myself this since the Hallows Eve service when I had first laid my eyes on her. She had walked in, one foot in front of the other. The soft leather of her shoes tapping upon the stone flagstones of the church floor. She had not seen me straight away; her eyes lost ahead of her, staring after the tall figures of her Pa and Ma. She had worn a dress of the finest wool, blue in shade, almost as bright as the light that fell from her eyes as I felt them on me for the first time. She had followed he...
Weekly Contest #98
The moon’s glare fell across the ripples as the Dons waters lumbered around the river’s bend. Yana saw it before she heard it. A flash of light, that erupted up into the sky, to be absorbed by the clouds. Then arrived the dull bang. Then another bomb fell. Voronezh burned. They will be here soon, thought Yana, pulling a golden strand of hair from across her face. The door behind her opened and she turned to see Bodovskov, stood tall, outlined against the whitewashed walls of the farmhouse, touched faintly by the light of the moon. He grunted...
Weekly Contest #97
TW: gore, murder Emyr was dying. Cedwyn had been his slave for as long as he could remember, his father had been a slave and so had his mother. They had been taken when Emyr and his men had invaded and sacked their land, the land under the mountain. Cedwyn’s father had been a good slave, as good a slave as any man could be when a knife was held to the throat of his wife, or son. And yet, Emyr had grown fond of him and had said, that upon his death, all kin of Dafydd ap Rhys, shall be free. Cedwyn held Ceri close to his chest, her face gent...
Weekly Contest #96
The sun sat high in the cloudless spring sky, rays illuminating the green leaves above, hanging low across the track, branches drooping. Kastor reached up from the back of the cart to grab one, his mother, Melina pulled him back down, holding her hands firmly around his waist. ‘You’ll fall, be careful,’ said Melina, wondering how on earth he had survived these past eight years. Deimos, sat at the cart's front turned and smiled, ‘What’s the boy doing now?’ he called. ‘You keep those eyes on the road! Like father, like son,’ said Melina. She r...
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