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Writing Contest #32 - ENTRIES
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Surprise!I don’t know when our rivalry began, but by the time we joined the skydiving club, it was well established. They called us the Obstinate Squad. Whatever one did, the other went higher, riskier.
I’d waited weeks. Mr Perfect’s new motor provided my chance as everyone thronged outside. I hung back saying I needed the loo, buying me two minutes alone with his gear. Then I joined the admirers of the lovely sleek crimson lines. His gaze caught mine, a satisfied weasel smirking behind his eyes. I lost sight of him as we discussed the impending drop and I fought back the laugh of pure joy that threatened to bubble up my throat. Mustn’t seem too happy.
I let him go ahead, of course. He looked back, smiled, then leapt out into the plane’s slipstream. How I would have loved to see his face when he discovered what I’d done.
I followed, spreading my arms and legs to the air, my gleeful scream lost behind me. It was only when I pulled free the ripcord on my main parachute that I understood his final smile. Gasping, I grabbed the reserve cord –
– and that's when it came off in my hand.
The CommuteThe long and tedious journey to and from work is only made bearable by reading. My trusty Kindle has accompanied me for five years, but last night it died. I rushed to my laptop to order a Paperwhite but they can’t deliver it till weekend. Panic! We’re a totally Kindle household and the hall bookshelves I raked through this morning offered me only cookery books, gardening books and a couple of dozen worthy brown volumes of classics which had belonged to my grandmother.
Needs must, I thought, as I snatched one at random before rushing for my train. Waverley, by Sir Walter Scott. Not my usual fare, but I thrust it into my bag and dashed for the station. As we pulled away, I opened it at the first chapter. It wasn’t as dry as I’d expected, though maybe a bit florid in the descriptions. By chapter two it was a bit racy – steamy, even. Half way to work I was blushing. I flipped the book over to check the dust jacket and that’s when it came off in my hand. Gran had been reading The Wanton Strumpet! Can’t wait to get home and check the rest.
The SpecimenIt was a privilege to be here.
‘The King will be thrilled,’ purred Thomson.
‘Not like the last time,’ added Hendrick bitterly. His artificial fingers were never the same as the real thing, but at least the axe had made a clean job of it.
‘Last time – well. It must have had some kind of disease, in life. This one is perfect – look!’
It was beautiful. Sunlight, aware of the honour, stroked the frozen curves, the glinting teeth, the shimmering golden down of the fur.
‘Magical,’ murmured Thomson.
‘I’ve taken photographs,’ said Hendrick, ticking them off the list. ‘But the King can’t wait to see the real thing. He’s arriving imminently.’
‘We can touch it, can’t we?’ I asked, nervous, the junior colleague. ‘I can still see some earth there, in that wing fold. Shall I fetch a brush?’
‘Oh, do, do!’ Thomson cooed. ‘Everything must be just right!’
Stepping up on the platform beside it, I made the gentlest sweeps of the brush, aware of sounds of footsteps in the hallway. If I just grasped the snout here, then I could reach – that bit – there …
‘His Majesty the King!’
And that’s when it came off in my hand.
REACHING FOR THE SKYI reached for it. Missed!
Inhaled deeply, I lunged again. Stretching, body twisting, hands at the ready, eager to grab, eyes wide unblinking. Thought, will, heart and body all in unison, trans-fixed on target ...And that’s when it came off in my hand.
Mesmerized, I stared at my prize.
As far back as memory goes I watched it tease me, tempt me, beckon me. Every night I went to sleep spellbound, captivated under its deep blue gaze with specs of brown and yellow, enticed by smudges of green and white. Every night it tugged at my dreams dared me, invite me and challenged me to try and unravel its secrets. Every morning I awoke with renewed zeal and confidence that today will be the day…
Face jubilant, aglow with success, eyes twinkled with joy and filled with anticipation of the promised reward. I held up my hand for my world to see.
“Wow! Savvy, you reach for the sky and end up with the fate of the world in your hand. At only three! What will you do by the time you grow up, Munchkin, I wonder? …Take good care of this!”
“World…” I stared fascinated.
Undeterred“Bilderberg throw a good party, don’t they?”
“Indeed. What’s your line?”
“International banking. You?”
“I was President of the United States a while back.”
“Of course, I should have recognised you at once! You de-escalated the Tajikistan crisis. You averted a nuclear war!”
“There’s a story behind that. You know how each President is given the briefcase containing the Big Red Button that launches our missiles?”
“Yes.”
“One night I got a bit sozzled and I just had to have a play with it. It’s such a buzz, having Armageddon at your fingertips. And that's when it came off in my hand.”
“The Big Red Button!”
“Yup.”
“What did you do?”
“Wedged it back in place, closed the briefcase and never ever opened it again.”
“Didn’t you tell anyone?”
“That I’d been drunkenly piddling around with the lives of billions of people? That’s a good way to wind up in a canal with an NSA bullet in the back of your head. Anyway, that’s why I had to dream up a peaceful resolution to that Tajikistan business, because I had no idea if that button even worked anymore.”
“I don’t know whether to be reassured or scared shitless.”
“Excellent! My work here is done.”
Marriage“And that’s when it came off in my hand.”
“What?”
“And that’s when it came off in my hand.”
“What did?”
“No idea.”
“You must have some idea.”
“No, I don’t yet have any ideas.”
“You said it came off in your hand. You must have seen it – unless it was dark.”
“No, it wasn’t dark. It was a few seconds ago. I told you straight away.”
“Well, you’d better tell me again as I have no idea what you’re talking about. What were you doing when something came off in your hand?”
“I wasn’t really doing anything.”
Theatrical sigh. “Have you any idea how infuriating you can be?”
“To be honest, I suspect that any confusion is your fault.”
“Bound to be. Care to explain?”
“I was talking to you, but you weren’t listening.”
“I have to admit that could be possible.”
“I was saying that the Goodreads writing competitions are starting again.”
“Oh good. Who’s organising them?”
“Rosie.”
“What’s the theme of the first one?”
“I was telling you, ‘And that’s when it came off in my hand’.”
Groan. “Here we go again. You just couldn’t make this up.”
“Actually, I think that’s the idea.”
The Last DropThe trouble, when you’ve spent years building up this reputation for courage, is that nobody’s there to comfort you when it really comes to the bit. There was a man there in a collar praying over me, but that’s not the same.
The crowd outside was excited. They’d always supported me, the stuff of legend! but this was it. This was the last triumphal appearance, and they would cheer me on. Cheer me to my death.
The hardest thing I’ve ever done, pulling my head up sharp as I paced out after the executioner, facing forward, favouring the pretty maid in the front row with a wink and a smile. I hoped she couldn’t see how fast I was breathing.
A matter of instinct, I’d been working the rope binding my wrists, and had it loose. The executioner noosed my neck, and without thinking, I reached up to feel the thing that was going to take my life.
And that’s when it came off in my hand.
The work of a moment, to leap from the scaffold, shocking the crowd. Cries, catcalls, cheers bounded after me as I seized an able-looking horse, swung up and kicked hard. I was free.
Hello lovely people - please read and enjoy! I'll set up a poll later today when I have had more coffee...
Being as I came up blank, I have to say these are all great, but I have picked my winner. Bring on the poll :-)
I have set up the poll, but it doesn't seem to have activated yet. Must have got my times mixed up
Hi Rosemary,Even though one is mine. But can't help but agree with David. Do like all the entries. ...There is one that I particularly liked. Shame it isn't mine though!
So... how does this poll work? What are the rules?
Jagriti wrote: "Hi Rosemary,Even though one is mine. But can't help but agree with David. Do like all the entries. ...There is one that I particularly liked. Shame it isn't mine though!
So... how does this poll..."
Don't worry, Jagriti. When the poll appears it will be obvious how it works. I suspect that the only rule is that authors shouldn't vote for their own entry - but it sounds as if you instinctively grasped that principle. Good luck.
Yes, BJ is right Jagriti it will appear on the Polls section - and I will post a link to it too. :)I think in trying to set it to start today it may come up at midnight tonight!
Ok! Thank you BJ & Rosie for the clarification. Will check it up tomorrow.It's my first time so a bit over excited and unsure about every thing!
Have a nice day! & Happy reading!! & GOOD LUCK to all who participated!!!
I always love the way these stories are so different!
All I can say is - "thank goodness I didn't enter" - standard much too high! Perhaps we should have a poll to see if we can guess who wrote which story before the big reveal!
Ah, I was already doing that! match the author to the story!
Oh, Dear!Looks like I am the only one to blow the guilty horn! :)
I didn't enter and I'm going to sleep on my vote. Which story will stay in my head?
Finally managed to make a decision and vote - after changing my mind several times.
Thanks Kath!
Five-way tie for first! Well done everyone
Good gracious! Now what are you going to do??
Wow, that has to be a first. Just shows how reader taste differs.Surprise had my vote.
What usually happens is that the winner chooses the subject of the next competition...So I was thinking perhaps if each of the famous five supplies one word, and then all five words must be used in the new composition?
Together and in sequence? (hee, hee!)
You're a hard woman Lexie! I think that may be a little taxing ;)
Gosh, so I'm both first and voted for someone else who came first. That certainly is a first.
Well done everyone who had a go. That's a very entertaining result. I managed joint last or, as I prefer to call it, joint 3rd. At least, like 80% of voters, I got the winner.
And who wrote what? I'm guilty of The Commute. You know, the naughty granny reading the suggestive books. Typecasting?'Fess up everyone else!
Here they all are :)'The Commute' - Kath
'Surprise' - Pam
'The Specimen' - Lexie
'Undeterred' - Richard
'The Last Drop' - Lexie
'Reaching for the Sky' - Jagriti
'Marriage' - BJ
'Nighttime at the Museum' - Claire
Well that would have been me guessing the authors incorrectly!!!
Gah, hit submit too soon! Well done to all the winners :)
✿Claire✿ (Tiny Owl) wrote: "Yay, never won one before :)"I voted for you, too!
David wrote: "Wow, that has to be a first. Just shows how reader taste differs.Surprise had my vote."
Thanks David! Well, I'm thrilled to be joint first. That's a boost as I entered quite a few stories on another website last year and didn't get one vote in any of the comps so I was a bit deflated. Thanks all, especially to Rosemary for organising this.
Wow, everyone's a WINNER!:) congrats to all!
Thanks to all who voted for me! :)
When I arrived tonight, I was certain that I had planned for every eventuality. I had spent hours at the museum, watching the routine of the guards, scoping out the escape routes and looking for the inevitable weaknesses in security. Once I had checked, and re-checked plans, packed and re-packed my backpack, I had picked the night. When the museum had closed for the evening, before the lights had dimmed to their emergency levels, I had hidden in one of the exhibits and bided my time. Eventually, the noise of the day went quiet, as all the staff finished cleaning up and went home. Checking my watch for the timing, I heard the guard pass my hiding spot and began counting. When I reached 20, I sneaked out into the museum and headed over to my target. The gorgeous necklace I had been hired to steal glittered in the moonlight as I lifted it into my backpack. Making sure it was secure, I headed for my exit. I heard the guard raise the alarm as I reached the only unsecured window in the place and reached for the handle. And that's when it came off in my hand.