Elle

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]

By the Sword – 347 words

Another hand clutched my black-jacketed shoulder.
Another cliché joined the collection.
Another pitiful frown.
Whispers drifted over; how brave she was being; a credit to her husband – oh, how she would miss him …

The bastard.

These people, they had been as blind to reality throughout the shit’s life; to his barbed…[Read more]

0815 Wednesday 12 December (350 words, 1 an expletive)

I assumed … God help me, I assumed McCallan had come with news of arrests, of mitigation. Or at least reassurance of progress
Instead –
Instead – Rob.
Robbie my son, my first-born.
Dead.
Dead in her car.
She the driver. No blame … no blame for Robbie, McCallan said.

Robbie, who Moira r…[Read more]

Well done, Sea – and also for the theme of next month’s competition.
Thanks Janette, for an opportunity to rehearse a scene, and for feedback.

Just remembered to check in… Well done @seagreen!! It’s a fab story! And thank you @janette for the kind feedback and giving me a lunchtime prompt! 😊

Well done, @seagreen, excellent story.

Great stuff @seagreen. Super story.

Results
Six entries this month, each a real pleasure to read, but the strength of writing has made judging a tough order.

John S Alty – Sunset
I thoroughly enjoyed this story of Frank and Sarah shipwrecked and stranded on an island. Loved the ‘knob of butter’ image of a sun setting, though felt the expression could have been strengthened if it…[Read more]

‘We have picnics at Stonehenge when we’re off-duty, it’s enormous fun.’

(400 words)

You lean back against the fallen stone, head tipped so that your horizon is the great circle of stones and a mosaic sky. Smoke from your cigarettes moves through the air like moths and the stone is cold against your arms, your hips. The others are laughing, but…[Read more]

Red Sun

Sunsets are very different here. Everything is different, but it was the sunset that I was staring at last night. Or rather, the absence of a sunset.

OK. No sunset. Tell you what, there aren’t any asthmatics here on Grissom’s planet either. I’m not blaming anybody; when a 300-mile-wide asteroid drew a bead on Earth at twenty-five miles…[Read more]

How would you describe a breathtaking sunset? Why no come along to the monthly comp and put it into a short story? It’s already half way through the month, it would be great to get a few more entries.

The marking of a life, or two.

This the second funeral in six days and the mourning very different.

Last week’s was of a mother. Not his, not biologically, but one who had nevertheless mothered him. Had generously included him, enabled him to share in the love she gave her natural sons. Much needed when his own family had been hard and spiky, s…[Read more]