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Weekly Contest #377
CW: Suicide, violence I was between three filths and two thirds of the way through what had become for me a very standard length of short story when the block happened. It was a somewhat mawkish love story. Fellow writers will know that once characters are established in a piece of writing they take over and carry the plot down lanes that the author in no way envisaged when pen first went to paper, or finger to keyboard as the case may be. This star struck couple proved supine in this respect. Not only did they make none of the usual attemp...
Weekly Contest #330
Quiz It was a whopper. I claim no skill at estimating the weight of turkeys, but if I had to guess I would have said twenty-six to twenty-eight pounds. Streaky bacon was draped decorously over its chest in the interest of modesty. The cavity at one end was filled with sage and onion, the other with hazelnut stuffing. Surrounding it, like a clutch of newly hatched chicks around a broody hen, were a very sufficient number of pigs in blankets, dabbling happily in the remains of the juice, with the rest of which Mum had made a huge jug of her fa...
Weekly Contest #320
It was a quiet time of year. His seeds in their trays were showing a peep of green, but were far from needing pricking out, let alone potting on. The had taken to going on long walks in the country. Mostly he was guided by a very useful app on his smartphone, but, just in case, he kept a compass and map in the long pockets of his anorak. It was still cold enough to need one. It was a densely wooded patch in the middle of nowhere. Although it was possible to weave a way though the trees, the footpath that both his app and the map showed was a...
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