EmmaD

Seven stories already in this month’s competition – and seven days to go, so if you’re dreaming up a dialogue please don’t leave it too long. And if you are in need of inspiration, you’ll get it by reading those already posted.

I dreamt about you last night.

Really? I haven’t thought about you for ages.

Ooh! Harsh.

Aha – Sorry, Jack. That sounded terrible. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, well, you know – the kids and all that. I don’t have much time for myself.

How old are they now?

Callum’s ten and Orla will be seven on Saturday. Most of this shopping is…[Read more]

“I dreamt about you last night. No, don’t look like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like it’s a line or… like I’m being…?”
“What?”
“I dunno. Overly sentimental.”
“OK. I won’t then.

…Well you can’t leave it hanging like that. What was I doing in this dream?”
“That’s the thing. I can’t actually remember. You know what dreams are like.”
“I know what my…[Read more]

When The Magic Ends

‘I dreamt about you last night.’
‘Sally, about that.’
‘No, please don’t say it. Things used to be so magical.’
‘But that was then, can’t you see? People move on. You’re not that kid I first met. There are others –’
‘Always were. From the very start you didn’t try to hide it let alone show any remorse. That deep chuckle…[Read more]

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.

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]