Short Stories – Page 6 – Boadicea's Chariot

November Creative Writing Winner

It has become customary for the competition adjudicator to begin with a laudatory paragraph about each submission, highlighting their best features – and a very civilised custom it is, too.

However, the entries for November are of such a uniformly excellent standard that I have decided to throw custom and convention out of the window. Instead, I shall highlight the few blemishes I uncovered, since it was the only way I could find to discriminate between such superb essays – my initial reaction was to declare them all joint winners! I hope our five skilful authors will not be unduly discombobulated by this unusual approach, and I urge them to take my remarks with at least a modicum of salt. Continue reading “November Creative Writing Winner”

The Fog. Nov CW compytishun.

Dave failed miserably to shut out the excruciating din of his fellow councillors. The fog inside his head was a real pea souper which showed no sign of lifting anytime soon. Why did he insist on the tequila chasers with every pint last night? Rob, his partner in crime from uni had called out of the blue, saying he was in town on business and they should get together for a few ‘sherbets’ and a catch up. It had been a good night, they yakked endlessly about the old days, where people were now and who’d done what to whom. He vaguely remembered staggering through his front door around one a.m. and little else. Continue reading “The Fog. Nov CW compytishun.”

Bloomers and Bodices: November Short Story

Ambrose had the feeling that the Extraordinary General Meeting of the Board of Grace Emporium was spiralling out of control. In all his years as Chairman, this was a first. Must be getting old, he thought as he listened to the increasingly angry exchanges between his two sons. Miss Phelps had abandoned her scribbles and looked hot and ill at ease as she gazed helplessly in his direction. He mimed raising a cup of tea, and was relieved when she slammed her shorthand pad on the boardroom table and fled the room.

They were still in full flow when Gladys, pushing a trolley through the heavy oak door, shouted “Tea’s up gentlemen, and by the way, Miss Phelps sends ‘er apologies. She’s gone ‘ome, she came over all poorly again.”

Continue reading “Bloomers and Bodices: November Short Story”

The Brush Travelogue (Nov C/W Comp)

“Maybe we should execute him. After all, we are the executive.”

The board of directors were used to Cranberry’s sour interjections. Recently, when Brian Brush the younger was almost killed while skiing in the Matterhorn, Cranberry said the papers should have headlined with:
A Brush with Death.
Still, young Brian’s behaviour was no laughing matter. After the death of the Blessed Brian Brush the older, sole control of the Brush conglomerate was passed onto the younger Brush.

“We must stop the young one’s wanderings. One of these days the private investigators will lose track of him like they did when he went caving in Indonesia and we’ll never hear from him again.” Chairman May was not amused. Behind him looking down on the gathering of members was the painted imposing figure of the Blessed Brain Brush the older. He would not be amused either. “Where has he got to this time?” Continue reading “The Brush Travelogue (Nov C/W Comp)”

Partnership (for Creative Writing competition November 2011)

“Embezzlement, Max?” I heard, and my interest, having wandered, was immediately refocused. “A financial fraud accusation is very serious,” said John, speaking in his measured way. By now I had all my attention on Max. What was all this about?

“I don’t use the term lightly,” I heard my husband say, “and it pains me as Andrew is my oldest friend.” I glanced at Andrew, who looked so shocked and uncomfortable. “But the figures just don’t stand up,” said Max. “There is a very big anomaly. And I’m surprised,” he said turning to Jackson, the accountant, “that you hadn’t identified a problem yourself, Ian.”

“I’m sure it’s a mistake,” Andrew said, looking around the room. He wouldn’t look at me. He wouldn’t now,in public. Then turning to Max he said, “You know me, Max, I’d never put the partnership in danger. This can all be sorted out with another look at the figures, I’m sure.”

“Just what I arranged,” said Max, “I have hired an independent firm of auditors. In fact they are looking at the books as we speak.” There was uproar at this. How could he go behind everyone’s back and arrange an independent enquiry? When I looked around the room Andrew and Ian were silent. Ian’s face was like a storm cloud. Continue reading “Partnership (for Creative Writing competition November 2011)”

November’s Creative Writing Competition

Thanks Pseu – I’m somewhat overwhelmed by your choice – “like a stunned mullet”, as we say in Strine – but thanks again for your kind words, and for the congratulations from other Charioteers.

I could think of nothing to write about until I remembered visiting the Berlin suburb of Wedding a couple of years before the wall came down. As soon as that popped into my head, the plot materialised fully-formed, and I could set to work.

I loved all the stories, and would have had great difficulty choosing between Bilby and Ferret if I had been in the hot seat.

The challenge for November –

We begin in a boardroom where a fierce debate is in progress. The words ‘dahlia’ and ‘crescent’ must appear, and the story must be less than 2,000 words – and more than 1,000 ❗

Closing date is UK midnight on the 27th of November 2011. Have fun! 😀

Competition results: ‘Short Story’ closing 31st October 2011

DON’T READ THIS YET – IF YOU WANT TO VOTE ON THE POLL FIRST!!!

SEE BEARSY’S POST

These were the parameters:

“….up to 2000 words long on the theme of ‘wedding.’ The first scene will start with two people in a room. There’s a key on the table. During the story you should include the words ‘football’ and ‘armchair’. The closing date is October 31st at UK midnight.”

Well, The Royalist (https://charioteers.org/2011/10/25/newly-dead/) surpassed himself, of course, going off-course with a surrealist mis-interpretation which was vair amoozing. (It’s time to get your eyes tested, young man. The theme was wedding. Not weeding. At least it wasn’t about welding.) He had the other bits… two people and a key on the table, plus football and armchair. So not ‘nil points’! Continue reading “Competition results: ‘Short Story’ closing 31st October 2011”

Havisham

They stand, hand in hand, in the fading entrance. Dust spins, twirling gracefully in the weak sunshine; a tarnished chandelier winks lazily above their heads; cobwebs hang listlessly like strips of glimmering gossamer.

‘Wow,’ says Lindsey; her voice echoes unsteadily. She turns, flushed and breathless. ‘Oh it is just perfect. Imagine living here after the wedding…’

‘Hmm’, says Peter, shuffling his feet nervously. ‘How much are they asking for it?’

‘Not sure. But the potential…’ she says. ‘Oh; where did you put the key?’

Peter rummages fretfully in his pocket.

‘Is this what you are looking for?’

He turns; his eyes lock with those of an elderly woman, standing behind them. He shivers; she has a sort of silvery pallor; her eyes are a clear, cold blue.

‘It was on the table,’ she says, holding the key up.

‘Sorry, we let ourselves in…’’ gushes Lindsey, apologetically.

‘Not at all,’ says the woman. ‘Come,’ she says, waving one spidery blue veined, hand. A cold prickle runs down Peter’s back. Continue reading “Havisham”

Competition links

Just a quick reminder, in case anyone has missed the carefully placed competition links on the right of the page:

SHORT STORY
the closing date for the short story competition is 31st October, UK midnight.

“The short story should be posted as a separate blog and linked to the one in the link above.
It should be up to 2000 words long on the theme of ‘wedding.’
The first scene will start with two people in a room. There’s a key on the table. During the story you should include the words ‘football’ and ‘armchair’.”

PHOTOGRAPHY
The deadline is Friday November 4th at midnight UK time.

“The photo competition this time is on perspectives… in particular the vanishing point of parallel lines, or the vanishing point of a river or road, or anything where the vanishing point is shown, maybe on a smaller scale …. you get the picture? See what I’m after? Please post your photos in comments on the original post . Thank you!”

Newly Dead

The top floor of the building of Moss and Rose had a room the two antique dealers liked to call the Overgrown Patch. Pete Moss and Herb Rose were hard at work in OP trying to organise the unwanted clutter into some semblance of order. A table was littered with dozens of copies of Shakespeare first folios. To give them some work space, Pistol Pete, with a sweeping backhand toppled the books to the floor creasing the pages. Managing to survive this manuscript massacre was a key. It sparkled amidst the dust on the table.

“Any idea what this key is for, Pete?”

“I’ve not seen that before. I wonder how long the key’s been there and more importantly what it’s for.” Continue reading “Newly Dead”