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Writing Contest #6 - Entries
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Blue RaftAh, you’ve found my raft. I wondered where it was. Nice photo too. I constructed it – I can hardly say ‘made’ – because I wanted to cross the estuary. I lashed the thing together, waited for the slack of the tide and set off, paddling with a thin plank of driftwood. I made slower progress than I’d hoped and the outrush of water caught me unawares. The raft began to spin out of control and I had to ditch the paddle and lie flat, clinging on as best I could. We were carried far into the evening sea and I became totally lost. I must have been adrift at the mercy of the currents for days. I knew I couldn’t drink the seawater and I’d read about sucking the liquid from the bodies and eyes of fish but I had nothing with which to catch them.
I might even have drifted with my raft on to the Isle of May if that storm hadn’t blown up. I clung, I sobbed, I finally lost grip with my frozen fingers and slid, screaming, into the icy waters.
Nice raft. I have no use for it now though, here beyond death.
Remembering.The Tarzan swings across the stream,
The joyous squeals; scraped knees.
I remember.
The Lido swims in the freeze,
Blue lips, chattering teeth,
I remember.
The beach days in the heat,
Ice-creams and sunburn peels,
I remember.
Raft building ways, planks and barrels,
that broke up with ease,
I remember.
The scrapes, the chattering teeth,
the burning, the breaking up,
I remember.
LOCAL BOY MISSING, PRESUMED DROWNED'A fierce wind bit into Peter’s face. He did not flinch, but instead gritted his teeth as he pulled tight the old length of washing line, securing the last of the wood. Peter’s mother had made her position clear on the first day of the project. “Well, it’ll keep you busy, but there’s no way on this earth I’ll let you take it out onto the water.” Peter had shrugged and continued sawing.
That night, Peter lay in bed listening. He could hear the waves crashing against the rocks and, nearer, the overlapping snores of his step-father and intoxicated mother. He slid out fully-clothed from under the duvet, pulled out a rucksack from beneath his bed and padded silently downstairs. The door clicked closed and Peter walked round the side of the house. He proceeded to heave his raft across the road, down over the rocks and into the sea. Almost immediately, the waves carried it back onto the rocks as Peter tossed his hat into the surrounding foam. He then turned and walked off, away from home, never again to feel in the dead of night the warm breath of his step-father or his drunken mother’s hand.
Bailing OutNo man is an island. Unless he is located inside an office. Us drones in our cubbyholes. Worker bees within the honeycomb. Isolated from one another, set cut-throat targets in competition with those around is we couldn't see yet could sense their fevered activity.
Well today heads were mysteriously apopping from every cubbyhole. A raft of redundancies, the word had come down the line. The wires abuzz with the desperate chatter, the Company was washed up and wrung out like a dishcloth. Dismay would be the prevailing emotion ricocheting off the cork panel walls. Walls adorned with family snapshots, pets, sporting conquests, all in that forlorn attempt to personalise them. How many would soon have to be unpinned and removed in the desk clearing? How many would end up as keepsakes forsaken and trampled underfoot for the cleaners to sweep away?
The section boss had only one image displayed giving an inkling of his personality. Others may have had middle management exhortations and pithy motivational phrases pinned up in place, but he had a print of Gericault's painting "The Raft Of The Medusa". Depicting the fallout after shipwreck, stormy seas, murder and cannibalism. The man must have been a seer...
Lonely RaftWe thought it was a good idea at the time. We’d always wondered what lived on the mysterious island at the centre of the lake. We’d seen lights moving around on some nights. Warm in our beds we pondered what they could be.
We needed to know. The next day we built the raft. It took all day under the spring sky to lash the palettes and plastic drums together. The job done we retreated home and waited for the quiet night to pass.
At dawn we pushed the raft into the cold water. We wielded our borrowed paddles and headed towards the island. Within an hour our arms burned from the effort, so we stopped to rest.
Only then did we notice the fog rolling across the water. The lake was completely silent. He was scared, I wasn’t. Not yet. The fog swallowed us, its clammy touch cold on our skin. We couldn’t see each other let alone the island, but we kept paddling.
I don’t know how long it was before I realised I was alone on the raft. I called for my brother. My shouts dulled by the fog. I kept paddling, the island couldn’t be far.
Tea and Scones"Look whit the cat dragged in," Senga mouthed to co-worker Maisie as they stood behind the counter at Jenny's Tea Shop. Maisie looked up from her decorative scone arrangement and her jaw dropped, even further than usual. “Ah'll serve him,” Senga decided and bustled, all nylon overall and nose, over to the incomer, who had seated himself at a table by the radiator and was now steaming gently.
“Whit'll ye have?” she asked. “Scones are good.” Then unable to contain herself further she continued. “Ye'll be needing a good pot of tea to warm you up. Looks like ye're affa wet lad!” She waited, stubby pencil poised expectantly over her notebook for the order and the man's life story, or at least the most interesting bits to be picked over with Maisie later.
The young man rubbed his hands together. “Oh tea please,” he said, “and a full cooked breakfast.” Rummaging in his pockets, he pulled out a plastic bag, and from it a mobile phone. After wiping it on the tablecloth he made a call. “Hello Brian! Yeah, I'm ashore now, had to swim though. Bloody management. That's the last time I'm going on a team building exercise!”
Ooo-er. I always have to go away for a day or two and think, then re-read them. It's amazing how different they are with the same brief.
I voted yesterday.Love how they're all so different :)
I had another idea for an entry. It was.... Say "blue pallet yellow pallet" 248 times.
But I decided it was just sirry.
You're too cleva for us lot, Simon....she sez in a condescending tone....
voted :) a great selection but in the end my choice was relatively easy cos one entry really touched me and i can't wait to find out who wrote it...
I had an idea this morning.Then I lay down for a bit, but it's not gone away. It might be totally impractical and I doubt the GR poll system could cope but I very often feel drawn to more than one entry. If voters had 6 votes to cast (but couldn't give them all to one) they could award 3 to 2 entires they can't decide between, or 3 to their favourite and 2 and 1 to the next two in descending order. There would be a greater spread of votes then. I suspect the votes would have to be PMd to a real person to add up though.
La France; un point!
Have you had plenty of votes coming in Jud?
I can't decide! I really like 2 of them,maybe if I sleep on it.
That's why I fancy the 'handful of points to distribute' method of voting!
Hard, isn't it?Hope some more people will vote - it's easier than writing them!
I found this selection the most difficult yet. I loved 2 and really liked another 2!
I narrowed it down to two quite quickly, but then the choice was harder!
Can we have multi-votes? Can we, can we?
A clear winner too! Well done to the winning author!
I actually don't think I've seen the winner since they entered. I shall pm them
ooo i voted for that - i NEED TO KNOW who wrote it !
Well done to the winner, whoever they are!I voted for your poem Mark. My effort was Tea and Scones.
I voted for winner ,can you tell us who wrote it .Was a hard decision between two
Oh my goodness, it was the first time I entered and I won! Thank you so much for the votes. I can't believe my story was so popular - I'm thrilled. My day has been well and truly made :)Great entries everyone. I will definitely be participating each time. Now I need to think of a category to inspire everyone...(puts thinking cap on)
oo well done Jonathan - I really loved your entry. I really must check out your book now... not a big fan of shorts tbh but with that as a taster it'd be foolish not to :)
Hey Jonathan! Well done I think that's the one I voted for (but at this distance in time - yeah, a couple of days!) I can't remember. I'm sure I did - most people did eh?
well done Jonathan,really enjoyed your story
Yes! I voted for the winner as well.I will certainly be reading more of his work.Congratulations Jonathan!
Thank you, all. I really enjoyed this contest. I can't believe I missed out on the previous ones - how did I not know about them?! Anyway, I have some wacky ideas for the next theme so you may well regret choosing my story...
Oh, we like wacky round these parts, we do
Thanks for letting me play guys, it was good fun!marc x ("Bailing Out")
Jonathan wrote: "Thank you, all. I really enjoyed this contest. I can't believe I missed out on the previous ones - how did I not know about them?! Anyway, I have some wacky ideas for the next theme so you may w..."It's only recently gotten properly underway I guess. Next one starts next Wednesday :o)
I'll be posting the entries for the writing contest here and then one of our lovely moderators will make a poll (please & thank you) with the titles so that you can vote for your favourite story.
If I have missed your story let me know but I'm pretty confident I have them all plucked out from my inbox.