Libby

Some great stories have already come in. We’re half way through the month – plenty of time for more entries.

A reminder of the details:

It’s October and I’m going for the obvious: Halloween. Or All Saints’ Eve or Hallowmas Eve or whatever you prefer. It doesn’t have to be ghostly, though if you can give us all the shivers that would be fun.

M…[Read more]

Thank you, Jill! That was a lovely surprise when I switched on this morning. Such brilliant writing from Knicks and Ath, everything so vivid and pleasurable to read.

This month I’ve gone for an essay, or at any rate not a story.

338 words

Outside my window there’s the small garden and then a field, where a tractor drags a harrow. The harrow’s arms are open and horizontal. Metal discs hang below them, making contact with the ground, and I hear the discs rattling along the soil and bouncing over flints. The…[Read more]

Apologies in advance, Sandra. I won’t be doing a story this month. I do enjoy these poetry prompts but a combination of holidays and life admin is swallowing the time.

A great prompt, Sea – I just haven’t had time to write a story this month. Very enjoyable entries from everyone.

I’m sorry to hear about the cardiologist.

That’s such a fabulous story, Seagreen.

I enjoyed everyone else’s entries too. Thank you Ath for the prompt and all your comments.

Moving On

The elderly man picked up a landline receiver. On his desk lay an open, glossy page of Country Life. The man underlined a phone number and dialled.

“Hello, my name’s John Tucker,” he said. “I’d like to sell my house. Could you send a valuer?”

He gave his address. A distant phone voice burbled.

“Two valuers?” said John. “This aft…[Read more]

Congratulations, Ath. I love your story. Very well deserved win.

Thank you Janette for setting the competition and for everyone’s entries. They are a very enjoyable selection of stories.

PS 495 words including title

Somewhere to Bloom

The cottage on the lane had a garden of pink, blue and mauve flowers on plants she couldn’t name. They faced her in clumps and drifts. On the lane she considered the pretty cottages, each one wearing its garden like a skirt, patterned, pastel – standardised, or something. And, even more annoying, they coped with the early May…[Read more]