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Weekly Contest #81
I woke before dawn, opened my eyes to the blackness and sighed out the remains of a dream that was already slipping away. The darkness slowly turned to a murky blue and I focused on a circle of damp plaster on the ceiling above my bed. A shaft of light seeped around the edge of the window blind and lit a slither of carpet that extended to the end of wardrobe. I watched two flies gyrate slowly around the naked light bulb until it became bright enough for them to fly to the window and settle on the dirty glass. I could already feel the damp ch...
Weekly Contest #80
PROTEST It might have been because I was escaping the misery of a disintegrating home, my father's drunken anger, mother's unpredictable and reversible moods, my brother's exasperating intellect. Or it might have been because at the age of eighteen I was impressionable and sensitive to contentious issues, just because they existed. Whatever, I latched on to the "Ban the Bomb" campaign and sought to become something of a specialist. I listened to the news, read the papers and examined the evidence, not much escaped my scrutiny. I was indust...
Weekly Contest #79
We stood in silence and gazed into one another's eyes. Then he sat down on the chair by the window and looked away to the fading, grey winter day and the silhouetted London skyline. He was my guest and I expected him to behave impeccably, which he did. Our conversation stumbled along, neither of us confident enough to talk uninhibitedly but each mindful of the other's nervousness. I had always felt uncomfortable in the presence of men, but the exchange between us was carefree and happy. I told him of many things, my father's indifference to...
Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #78 ⭐️
THE MODEL RAILWAY "It's a hobby that'll keep you interested for years, you'll never finish the layout you know, it'll keep growing with you" My father's words contained both enthusiasm and disappointment in unbearable combination. I detected the tone, and wondered whether to answer him with honesty, or with more of the fake enthusiasm that I'd perfected over the last couple of years. I decided to continue with the pretence, it was easier to deal with the undefined guilt than to disappoint him. And I had plenty more time to deny my indiffe...
Weekly Contest #77
SNOW DREAMS January. The year one week old. Devilish winter day, spindrift circling madly about the courtyard, last season's perennial stems bent under a weight of snow. Fiona sitting in her chair staring out at the scene, stockinged legs outstretched on a woodpile stacked under the lounge window. Next to her, bookshelves randomly stuffed with a collection of twice read paperbacks and jacketless hardbacks, all bought cheaply, most stories lost to her fading memory. Below the window and next to the wood stack a small circular table bought f...
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