Knicks

The Sanctum of Dreams

“I dreamt about you last night. You were in the sanctum.”
“Well, that’s hardly surprising, is it? Given what’s about to happen.”
“No. I suppose not. It was just so…”
“So…what? Are you going to share? Or just sit there looking worried? I’m not a mind reader.”
“Yet.”
“Ha! True. Well, tell me about it. I don’t like to see y…[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]

‘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]

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

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]

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

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]

Halfway through the month, so still time to get an entry in!

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.

Eek! Sorry about this, but I’ve been caught on the hop. Loved ALL of your stories and wasn’t expecting to be anywhere near the podium this month.
Thanks to Janette for hauling me out of a particularly deep rut with the theme for this comp, and thanks to all of you for challenging me to be better.
I think I have a idea for October…