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‘I dreamt about you last night, or rather I dream about this every night.’
‘You’re not John. Who are you? Do I know you?’
‘It’s me, Gran. It’s David.’
‘I don’t know anyone called David.’
‘Sure you do, Gran. It’s just that you don’t remember. I’m Moira’s son. You remember Moira, don’t you? She was your daughter.’
‘Moira’s dead. She had a…[Read more]

‘I dreamt of you last night, y’know’
‘Oh yeah, anything good? You should try this, sit down, its good’
‘Some of it, yeah. The old parts, y’know, before…..that’
‘Come on, Steph…..we agreed. It was the only way’
‘Was it? Really? We could have just left, run away, started again just you & me. She’d never have known where to send them if we were car…[Read more]

Are we allowed ‘he said/she said’ and scratching of heads, or is it pure dialogue you’re looking for?

Thank you, Sea, for the challenge. It was a challenge, too! Not my normal kind of writing.

Congratulations, Sandra. An excellent story.

Congratulations, Sandra – an excellent story. And thank you, Sea, for the feedback and setting a challenge I could rise to.

Thank you Sea, not least for the challenge itself, which forced me to face and write a scene I had been putting off; I look forward to the time that bottle of wine is anything but virtual. And yes, I was glad not to be the judge this month, so many differing emotions to choose from. I’ll be back in the morning with a challenge for November.

Apologies for the delay in posting these results…You know what I’m like with feedback but I did my best.

Firstly, though, many thanks for taking the time to post an entry 🙂

Sandra – Great use of short, staccato sentences and broken sentence structure to indicate disorganised thought. Sharp intake of breath when I realised where this was…[Read more]

346 words excluding title

Learned Habits

Her flatmate said she wanted a chat, about the apartment. She called it an apartment but with its beige kitchen units, its shower over the bath, its dingy paintwork, it was an old-fashioned flat.

Both women were in their early twenties.

Jess sat down on the sofa. The sofa, said the flatmate. Its…[Read more]

A week left to get your rage on the page or your venom on the vellum!

Congratulations, Doug. Sounds like you’re on a roll. It’s lovely having that feeling of not wanting to stop.

There’s a monster inside of me.

It was born when Noellia moved into number 14.

The car started it. A shiny new Fiat 500. Electric. In powder blue. Parked on the drive. I looked at my own clapped out Fiesta and felt the first stirrings of new life, deep in my chest.

She fed the monster well, did Noellia.

Had an open house, she did. Invited…[Read more]