UK Amazon Kindle Forum discussion

Here are the entries for the writing contest with the theme Rooms and Corridors.

The poll is here

Our Boat

She looked anxiously at the clock on the wall, biting her lip. She heard footsteps growing closer. She recognised the click of heels on the polished floor of the corridor. She swung her feet off the bed and rearranged her hair for the tenth time. At last the door swung open.
“You’re late,” she said by way of greeting.
He smiled, immediately making her feel safe, desired, loved even.
“I’m sorry,” he replied. “But I’m here now. Did you sleep well?”
He sat beside her on the bed. She offered her hand and he took it.
“I dreamed. About being at sea. Dolphins swimming alongside our boat…”
“Our boat?”
She smiled and looked away, embarrassed.
“That’s alright. I like boats, I love the sea.”
“Maybe we can go?” She looked at him, hope in her eyes.
“I’d like that,” he replied. “Now, I have to go but I’ll come back tomorrow. I brought something for you.”
She swallowed the medication without resistance and he stood.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
He closed the door and rolled the trolley to the next room then unlocked the door and went inside.
“Morning. Did you sleep well?”

Bad Odour

The hotel was cheap and to be honest that was why we chose it. However there were some good reviews and we were on a budget. First impressions were OK, parking was easy and check-in was simple, if a little East European and, if I were to be brutally honest, somewhat surly. The seemingly interminable trudge to our room along dreary corridors was less than endearing (a little more lighting en-route would have been appreciated) and frankly a map would have come in handy. But we made it to our room and on first inspection all appeared fine, although we did wonder why the window was open so wide, and on such a windy day. However we were keen to explore the city so having secured our window we left for an evening to have a look round.
After a delightful meal in the artisan quarter and a quite simply divine time at a manouche jazz bar we felt the need to retire to the hotel.
And what a smell we discovered. It is simply unacceptable in this day and age that housekeeping could have missed a body in the wardrobe, and apparently for so long. Hence the two stars.

Lost

I entered the large building and enquired of the receptionist where I needed to be. She nodded her head in the direction of the long corridor behind her. It was gleaming and well-lit with shiny floors and no personality whatsoever.
“Down to the end, first left, then second right. Take the south stairs up three floors. Room 423 is along the next corridor.”

I thanked her and set off. I followed the long, echoing corridor. Left at the end. Yes. I followed another turn and came to a set of two staircases. South stairs? I was thoroughly confused now. I took one set up three flights. Yes, this was it. The room I wanted must be here. There were no odd numbers. I knocked on a few doors. No answer so I opened one or two. They were furnished but empty of people to ask.

Nothing for it. I had to go back down to the twin stairs and back up four flights. Ah, the even numbers. I was hot, sweaty and very late for my interview. The first question was, “Why did you apply for the post as Head of the National Orienteering Committee?”

Walking with purpose

Harold Heskey likes to walk. He does what is called, “walking with purpose”. He particularly enjoys long corridors, striding through them like a soldier on parade for that brings back vivid memories of long ago.
He has been known to pause and salute when entering the myriad of rooms, while at the end of the corridor the exit is permanently locked.
About turn!
Full retreat through the grey tunnel of a corridor.
Harold is the unofficial fire-warden.
Every week the raucous bell wakes everyone.
The rooms and corridors are suddenly full of life like a trout filled river, and Harold is mighty busy, organising his charges. But the corridor doors automatically close, confusing Harold and his newly mobile friends, and marching is temporarily abandoned.
The corridor is Harold’s favourite place in the entire world.
It’s his life journey, for each door along that corridor represents an opening to a memory, or past event, to people and places and loved ones from long ago.
The blurred rooms and corridors of Harold’s mind become filled with sunlight and meaning and clarity, and Harold feels so much better for that.
Those rooms and corridors are open again.
The all clear has sounded.

The Game

The first thing I see is orange.
The brightness of it makes me open my eyes, revealing itself to me.
Of course they’re going to give me a flaming torch, they want me to struggle.
I push myself off of the cold limestone wall, taking some of the wet rocky residue with me, and angrily lift the torch from the ground.
Anyone would think I’m in a castle judging by the high ceiling and everything looking like it has just come straight from the likes of Dragon Heart, but obviously not. It is just an illusion, created for their pleasure.
I wonder how many people have walked this corridor. Judging by the thick gelatinous red substance hiding inside the numerous cracks that adorned this hall, I can’t say that many made it out.
I look side to side, as if I’m a child at a crossing, and stare into the helpless darkness that the light can’t reach.
The right being as endless as the left I go with my gut instinct and lead onwards right.
It’s been maybe 20 seconds since I left, and a low hum is bouncing off of every wall in this corridor. The game has begun.

The Three Door Theory

Mr Minos had a rep for dealing with guys who stole from him, who didn't pay him their cut and who, on one unfortunate occasion, lost his dog.

“Whatever happened to Reilly?” I wondered. “Did he walk again?”

Minos smiled into his whiskey. "Do you know the three door theory?" He waved an arm expansively towards the back wall.

"Men are infinitely greedy, and infinitely short-sighted. You give a man a choice and what does he assume? That things can only get better."

He flung open the first two doors, displaying their identical interiors: vast walk-in closets of armaments – of guns, grenades and metal chains.

"The difference is one of nuance. Which weapon do I use? Door number one: my choice. Door number two: yours"

I nodded at the last door. Minor raised his glass and grinned so that all of his teeth were bared.

"Let's call this one a cupboard. Too low to stand up in. Narrower at the back than the front – a one-way entry."

“And then?”

"Do you remember when the Monset Zoo lost its lion?"

I mulled this for a moment.

"Minos," I tutted, toasting myself in the mirror. "You really are a twisted chap."

The Challenge

Helen walked into the room and stared around her. The walls shimmered with the shine of stars in the sky. Listening, she heard the tick of a clock and knew her time was passing. Using the light of the stars, Helen saw a thin path across a bubbling lake. Taking a deep breath, she shuffled carefully along, using her arms to balance. At the halfway point, she paused and reached up to grab a bag that hung above her head. Clipping the bag to her belt, she continued across to the other side. A door opened and she hurried through. On the other side of the door was a corridor that was harshly lit, making her squint after the darkness of the previous room. Running down the corridor, she passed through another door into a sand filled room with a box at the far end. Carefully, she picked her way across the sand, feeling her way to avoid the traps hidden in her path. To the sound of time running out, she reached the box and opened the bag to find a key. She unlocked the box to the sound of cheers. She had won another crystal for her team.

The Photographer

The blazing camera flash roused Jessica with a start, he had sidled into the room whilst she slept. He liked to take her by surprise so he could document her reactions in his photographs. She opened her eyes just in time for the 2nd burst of acidic light to burn into her corneas. Jessica slammed her eyes shut and turned away from the origin of the flash as she tried her best to prevent the flow of tears she remember she must not cry, they liked it when she cried.
The woman came into the room and stood next to the photographer clad in a black leather. Seeing the woman Jessica knew this was going to be far more than just another photography session for her captors. They had taken what seemed like a thousand photographs since the room had first became her prison. How long ago was it? Jessica had no idea, she knew it had been several days but it couldn't have been much more than a week as the first set of bruises they gave her hadn’t yet healed. The camera flash continued to dazzle her, Jessica feared she would never leave the room.

The Room

Mom never told me it was going to be like this. She had always said that I would have a choice. She made it sound like there was no possible way anyone or anything would be able to influence exactly how, why or when it would happen.
She believed she had instilled all of the values, morals and don't mind the language - bullshit detectors - to keep all of the undesirables out.
I'm not so much mad at her as I am disappointed that she forgot to tell me one vital thing that would have changed everything for me. The one thing that none of us have control over - matters of the heart. It doesn't matter how many little rooms you choose to stow away your feelings or thoughts - or how many safeguards you put in place - when fate steps in you don't have a choice.
Each corridor of experience allows 'the one' - even if you don't initially want them to be it - to master all of the twists and turns and find the perfect place within the room you think is safeguarded to 'set up house' so to speak.

Clifton Drive

I grew up in a big, detached house with just my mum and my sister. It wasn’t supposed to be just us three, but I guess that’s what happens when the father runs off. Our three bodies were never enough to fill that house, with its wide corridors and empty rooms. It was always cold, it was always dark and there was always things that went bump in the night. My older sister would make up ghost stories to scare me and they worked, a little too well. She was the strong one, fearless and brave. I was the chicken, terrified by my imagination of what I might see at the end of the corridor or be welcomed by in one of the many empty rooms. I hated having to go to the toilet in the middle of the night. I’d put every light on and run across the landing as fast as possible, completely insensitive to the thought I might be waking my hard-working mum up. Most children are sad when they move house the first time, but I couldn’t wait to leave. I guess it’s fitting that I’m living in a caravan now.

How?

‘How did this happen?’

Bubbles of sweat pimpled Rachel’s brow as she fought desperately to remember.

‘Did I let them?’

Rachel rubbed her temples, trying to calm the throbbing pain in her head. She closed her eyes and retraced the corridors of her mind, opening doors to empty rooms and silent voices.

Then she heard it. A soulful sax casting its spell, charming her forward. A neon sign flashed red and blue. She opened the door and stepped in, mingling amongst the faceless revellers and nebulous shapes plying her with wine and smiles. She’d outstayed her welcome. Rachel raced down the hallway refusing open doors and gifts of friendship, that is until she heard the engine turn. A car door opened and Rachel found herself clamped between two shadows, blinded either side by speeding headlights.

‘No!’ she screamed and sped back down the twisting corridor, trying desperately to find a way out.

Only one door remained. Rachel knew something bad was waiting for her. Two dark figures grabbed her from behind and threw her onto the soiled mattress. Rachel tried to sob herself clean. The shadows left, slamming the door behind them, and the flickering lightbulb died in the darkness.

The poll is open :

https://www.goodreads.com/poll/list/5...

L.A. wrote: "✿Claire✿ wrote: "Here are the entries for the writing contest with the theme Rooms and Corridors.

The poll is here" Was disappointed not to see my entry, but maybe i did something wrong in the ..."

I think you should message Claire and ask - and hide your description of your entry otherwise we'll all know which is yours! :) They should all be up here now though

L.A. wrote: "✿Claire✿ wrote: "Here are the entries for the writing contest with the theme Rooms and Corridors.

The poll is here" Was disappointed not to see my entry, but maybe i did something wrong in the ..."

It probably is there but Claire will have given it a different title. I thought the same in the last contest but I eventually found mine.

Really sorry LA but I never received a story from you. I've been back a month or so in my messages and there's nothing there.

Maybe I could send it anyway so you can tag it to the end of the list - he said soulfully, knowing he wouldn't be eligible for the prize, but sure he'd get a decent hearing on the value of the 45 minutes he spent putting the story together????

Rosemary (The Nosemanny) wrote: "L.A. wrote: "✿Claire✿ wrote: "Here are the entries for the writing contest with the theme Rooms and Corridors.

The poll is here" Was disappointed not to see my entry, but maybe i did something ..." Thanks Allan, good thought. Deleted the message (don't know how to hide) and sent a plea to Claire !!

L.A. wrote: "Maybe I could send it anyway so you can tag it to the end of the list - he said soulfully, knowing he wouldn't be eligible for the prize, but sure he'd get a decent hearing on the value of the 45 m..."

I can certainly add it to the thread if you'd like, although it'll be below this message as I can't add in posts! But unfortunately this time it won't be able to be in the poll. Sorry. I really hope it doesn't put you off entering again.

✿Claire✿ wrote: "L.A. wrote: "Maybe I could send it anyway so you can tag it to the end of the list - he said soulfully, knowing he wouldn't be eligible for the prize, but sure he'd get a decent hearing on the valu..."

Thanks Claire, at least it will see a little light of day! here goes:


DARKNESS CONQUERED

….still really dark, still crawling away from the library, it was cold but she was sweating, it was too dark to read, nowhere to sit, corridor was getting narrower, her knees damp and bruised, she’d been crawling for ages, couldn’t stand, ceiling getting lower all the time, cold water still dripping relentlessly onto her head ran down her neck, torch looked into the gloom. Suddenly the beam wasn’t bouncing off the ceiling and she was in the dining room.

Still dark, no lights, dripping had stopped, she found the corridor out and walked towards it, tripping on fallen debris on the floor. Walking now in the new corridor,, she suddenly smashed her head on the sunken ceiling, ducked and breathed in squeezing between too-close walls, wanting to breathe hard, suffocating, Christ she needed to lose weight, then the squeezing stopped. She tripped over more debris, stumbled round a sharp corner and saw the stairs at the end and almost fell up them. There was light now, getting brighter and she stumbled, blinded, back out into the field, smiling. Back in the sun she lay on the grass and laughed at the blue sky after her first Wookey Hole experience.

Good one L.A.; it would have been a contender.

Voted :~)

A goodly selection! I have voted :)

David wrote: "Good one L.A.; it would have been a contender.

Voted :~)" Much appreciated David.....thanks for the vote of confidence. Next time hopefully I'll hopefully crack the submission technology if not the theme/story-line!!

I've voted too and they were all good. As was yours L.A. :) Do you want to send me a test message and we'll see if we can sort it out :)

✿Claire✿ wrote: "I've voted too and they were all good. As was yours L.A. :) Do you want to send me a test message and we'll see if we can sort it out :)" Thanks Claire, and yes if you could send me a test message that would be great.

Have voted and it was a difficult one for me. For me it was close between Bad Odour and Clifton Drive. Looking forward to seeing the results!

Terrific selection of stories (including L.A's). Voted!

Thanks Philip (sarah). Much appreciated - glad i sent it in now!! Voted as well.

Woo. Particularly chuffed with poll results.

So you won, Jamie? Excellent! I was second - and so busy this week I forgot to vote!

I did indeed. Never entered before, not sure why I did this time. Glad I did though!

Well done Jamie! I came in a solid fifth equal ;)

Well done Jamie. Good story.

Yay Jamie!

You get to set the next one.

Claire will let you know what she needs.

And let's all give Claire a big hug for sorting the writing contests!!!

((((((((((((((HUG))))))))))))))))))

I've got your email haven't I? Your £5 Amazon voucher will be with you in the next day or two.

I get a voucher? This is all news to me. Blimey. How very unexpected. Exciting that I get to set the next one though. Does this mean I can't enter? I know, I know, there will be rules published somewhere and I should read them.

Congrats, Jamie. No restriction on you entering the theme that you've set; it's never proved an advantage to me in the past :~)

Voucher sent, Jamie. Good luck with the next one!

Congrats Jamie, i came in third. Thanks to the voters and great stories all around.

All very exciting. Voucher received thanks Kath.

Congratulations Jamie!!

Well done Jamie!

Well done Jamie! I think I got the sympathy vote this time again :)

Sorry it's taken me a while, last weekend was manic at work! Please can you PM me your theme for next week by next Tuesday? Thank you :)

He's on hols at the moment, Claire - but not sure for how long. Maybe he's still got internet?

Thanks Kath, that's fine, we can always have a week's break until he's back :)

I'm back!! Hello! Am pondering theme right now and will PM you shortly Claire.