Chrissy

And thank you Ath for setting the competition and giving us all helpful feedback. Apologies for not mentioning this before.

Congratulations, John. I loved your yo-yo story. And thanks for organising, Ath.

Well, there’s a pleasant surprise for a Sunday morning! Thanks, Ath, and thank you fellow Denizens.
I’ll ponder a new prompt and put it up later today.

Well done, John. And thanks Ath!

Well done, John, and well deserved. And to everyone else too. I’m glad I didn’t have to judge between such good entries.

First day

The first day of school was always like this – nervous parents clutching little ones’ hands, milling in a crowd of growing frenzy. The sooner they were decoupled and the parents moved firmly on their way, the better it would be for everyone. But first reassurance was needed.

I moved through the group, cutting apron strings when no one…[Read more]

498 words including title

Photographs

Kirsty wasn’t interested in the marriage album but there was a folder of other wedding photos. She tipped the glossy prints out over the kitchen table: all those relatives and friends, held in their best outfits for decades.

It was fine to look at them now. The old emotions didn’t snag any longer. Her…[Read more]

Fascinating tale, Philippa, well done for sticking it out to a triumphant end. Looking forward to reading the book.

I couldn’t do this idea justice. The right person could really build the tension and explore the changing relationships of the three characters as the story builds. Interesting project for someone, but not me.

What a great crucible of an idea. I can see it as a film too.

With such a litany of abysmal systems, irresponsible staff and wayward practices, it’s a wonder that a lot more than fifteen people weren’t killed. Not that that’s any consolation. The people who ran the show ought to have gone to prison for a very long time

Memories, memories

Through a mane of blonde hair, through streaks of bleached and of darker dyed strands, her eyes flickered upwards. “Can I help you, sir?”

Behind me the door hissed shut expensively, hinges well greased by wills and probates. “Do yer know where Bryant Street is?”

“I umm… don’t know.” She bent her head back down to the screen…[Read more]