Stevie

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.

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.

Well done, @seagreen, excellent story.

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]

You’re really on a roll, Raine … proving it’s not just buses. Brilliant news.

Excuse the bizarre formatting, this had indents when I wrote it.

Sunset
The sun melted into the horizon like a knob of butter in a frying pan and behind it the sky was on fire, it’s flames dancing on the restless sea. Soon, for this was the tropics where sunset and darkness are never far apart, a million stars would come out to play. Frank and his sister, Sarah, sat shoulder to shoulder, their feet half b…[Read more]

Ah, yes. I take your point Athers. My ignorance obscured it earlier.