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Weekly Contest #265
This story contains non-descriptive references to child abuse Alys Morgan was always a Pembrokeshire girl. She was born with her face to the Irish Sea. Poppit Beach was her playground when she was allowed to play. The nearby town of Aberystwyth was always out of bounds, and so she found shells and wore bracelets of kelp when other children were licking ice-creams and playing the arcades in flip-flops and shorts. She had a brother, but he left when he was fifteen. His last words to her were ‘This is shit, Alys. ...
Weekly Contest #264
There are three very specific things I hate: Cologne Cathedral, bananas and weddings. Unlike pollen, it is possible to avoid these things, but weddings are the hardest. No one would be too offended if you said you hated a German cathedral or a yellow fruit, but you try telling someone who has invited you to their wedding that you would rather eat a toenail sandwich, and you get a different reaction. I’ve been lucky. The year of my birth must have coincided with a rogue spore in the native soil which left most of my p...
Weekly Contest #263
Sing Sing, New York: Thursday April 23 1914 ‘Professor Moriarty, thank you for agreeing to see me today. My name is Ted Pilsworth from the New York Tribune.’‘Time is of the essence. Tomorrow will be too late’ said Moriarty. Pilsworth took a hard seat in the Death Room of Sing Sing, swiped the pencil from behind his ear and opened his notebook to the first page. Moriarty was gratified to note that a new book had been procured especially for him. This was quite the assignment, he thought. Pilsworth must be go...
Weekly Contest #262
On a high sedimentary cliff overlooking a small fishing town in north Devon, England, there stood a rather unique hotel. It was built in the 1880s, which made it something of a parvenue in comparison to its shoreline neighbours, some of which could remember, within their walls, witches dragged from their rooms, the hooves of Cromwell’s horses, and various and sundry drumbeats of early-modern history. The town church, and several buildings adjoining it, had been around since the Second Crusade. The town pub was built in the rei...
Shortlisted for Contest #261 ⭐️
Nelly Regenhardt had been writing to prisoner B6732FH for nine hard years and had never received a reply. But she had seen The Shawshank Redemption, and came to understand that in the matter of correspondence, persistence always won the game. And win the game it did. Ten years after her husband had been shot in the head by the very man she had been writing to, she received a standard reply: Prisoner B6732FH will see you on (appointed date and time), at a venue very much decided upon: HMP Wingfield: Category A. But le...
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