Bella

Wow, Libby, and thank you, a big surprise, especially as I’d already identified winners 1,2 and 3 and, my laptop having died and been taken away, and only having my ancient, over-full and steaming one, I wasn’t checking as often as I have been. I’ll try and come up with something as interestingly challenging as the last few have been.

Brutal

Graham was beside himself. Furious, speechless, incandescent with rage. They had demolished the ancient well in his garden, thrown the centuries old stonework down inside, and constructed a former which showed their intention to pour footings a full twenty metres from where the summerhouse should be. He leaned forward and peered down. All…[Read more]

Hi Janette – as discussed, it’s gone. Feel free to post again when ready.

Ath.

Right man for the job!

Half eight, overnight ice on the inside of the windows, me already double Aran-wrapped, my phone rang:
‘Missus Blake? Morpeth Builders. We’ve a cancellation. Can come and have a look at your chimney today.’
‘That’d be great. There’s some sort of, of … blockage. The boiler’s broke, so lighting a fire the only way to kee…[Read more]

Congratulations, Libby, and thank you Seagreen for such an enticing theme – I had a dozen possibilities in my head, and it was obvious others did too, strong voices all and I was glad not to have to do the judging.

Car

Look at that bloke. Arm out of the window, cigarette in hand. Marks and Sparks polo shirt that his wife bought him. Revving the engine every five seconds; counting down the time until death. And he got the silver car, the GT model. He chose that. He calls it “my car”. But if anybody asks, “We chose it. Me and my lady.”

How old do you reckon?…[Read more]

‘O dolce mano’ another opera

Coming out of the theatre, in the carpark, beeping the car unlocked, you say ‘If we’re dropping Judy off, she’d be best in the front –‘
Because it’s SO difficult to get out of the back seat? Nevertheless, I say nothing. It was Judy – a work colleague –that offered him the tickets. I bought the third on seeing the…[Read more]

Wow! They were all classy little pieces of writing. Seagreen, I really enjoyed that. Well done.

Well done Sea, for an intriguing tale, and thank you Kate for a topic that had me seeking a tale I KNEW I’d written on this theme, then, not finding it, having to concoct something else. Thanks also for all the other entries; I still haven’t solved the anagram.

The Unmarked Letter

It’s a circular, sitting there on the mat. Or is it? It doesn’t look like the sort of envelope they use. And they usually say To the Householder or something like that. When Arthur was alive, he’d say, ‘That’s me. The householder,’ as though I didn’t count. This one has nothing on it.

Right, that’s Edith at the door. I’d b…[Read more]

There’ll be kites [497 words]

It isn’t often that seeing an envelope on one’s doormat transports one back some forty years through time.
Took me long enough – the wrestling of the key in the lock ever more painful thanks to the curse of arthritis; the nudging open of the door with my shoulder just enough to know I’d be able to push it wide en…[Read more]

Quite awful accident, Richard. I sought out some of the video and still-images after reading your blog, and I have to say that Hawthorn does look, physically, like the villain of the piece. Whether he was the actual villain or not, his face relaxes into a rather smug expression that does him no favours. I was reminded of the comedian Rob Beckett,…[Read more]

Well deserved win Kate, not only for the entrancing fairy story but for the impetus reading it gave me. And thank you Alex for the competition theme – the sort of challenge which stretches and inspires.

@ Athelstone – would it be possible to put that red reminder banner up more regularly? I confess I’d forgotten about the monthly comp and was…[Read more]

Tickled pink

Let me say straight away, it wasn’t what you – or any of my workmates – would think. Soon as I got over my … anger, I suppose, and looked at her, saw her, I heard my wife say, clear as if she was beside me, and we’d passed her in the street, “Asking for it!” She didn’t always bother to lower her voice, and inevitably I’d look to see…[Read more]