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Weekly Contest #339
“I really don’t know what’s the matter with you!” Mitch fumed in exasperation. “Every time I try to do or say something to help, you just clam up and I can’t get a word out of you for days. What the hell is wrong with you?” The object of Mitch’s exasperation looked at him with that doleful expression that Mitch had come to recognise after eight months of having the student live with him. Although Emmanuel was in his late twenties, Mitch always thought of him as just a boy, maybe because of the age difference between them – he was more than...
Weekly Contest #237
Like him, the Thames moved slowly; an ancient waterway has no need to hurry. “Hurrying is for the young and impatient,” he thought to himself as he shuffled along, enjoying the brief spell of warm sunlight in what was usually a chilly and sullen time of year. He paused and leaned against the iron railing, squinting at the light reflected from the slow-moving water. Across the mighty river, London’s skyline was a pale watercolour painting in the early morning light. “Might as well enjoy my last day of freedom,” he thought wryly...
Weekly Contest #135
First Day at School I kept telling myself to be brave but it wasn’t working. In fact, I was shaking in my shoes as I watched the scruffy looking kid with dirty blonde hair and a snotty nose get ever closer. I’d been watching him for more than a minute, making his way along the queue of primary school students, many of them first-timers, like me. He looked mean and, by the way he shouted at the other kids and roughed up the smaller ones, I could tell he was a nasty piece of work. I was petrified. It was a quarter to n...
Weekly Contest #130
It was a lovely funeral, as funerals go. Everything looked to be just right – enough floral tributes to fill a cathedral, glistening black limos (grandson Ted had his own dealership) and a decent throng of neighbours. There were parishioners and sundry nosey-parkers - all displaying doleful expressions and clutching soggy hankies but really just there not wanting to miss this send-off for someone who had been a stalwart churchgoer and parishioner for over sixty years. That would be my mother. Even the English weather had obliged – perfe...
Weekly Contest #101
Inner Secrets The taxi pulls up at the kerb and its passenger climbs out, struggling with her umbrella in a vain attempt to keep the squally rain from drenching her. Quickly trying to dodge the downpour, she hurries into the lobby of her apartment building and shakes the rain from her umbrella as she punches the call button for the elevator. It’s late and the building is quiet making her mo...
Weekly Contest #86
My Back Yard It’s not big but it is manageable and...
Weekly Contest #81
A Warm November Like him, the Thames moved slowly; an ancient waterway has no need to hurry. “Hurrying is for the young and impatient,” he thought to himself as he shuffled along, enjoying the br...
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