Love of Writing discussion
Monthly Short Story Contest
>
December Challenge: Remembering the Forgotten
date
newest »
newest »
Ooh! This is an interesting challenge to end the year with!
I wanted to make the last challenge of the year a little different. We have had such a great year and I just want to send it out with one last hooray.
My goodness I hear the crickets. Everyone must be still recovering from NaNoWriMo or busy with the holidays.
“The Calling Comes” by Christene Britton-Jones (words 830)The alliance Terah and Hecher shared had ended.
… Terah could no longer hold nor handle the pain. A loneliness was enfolding her in a fog of chilled misty tentacles that tightened, crushing bones, cracking them like twigs under frozen ice that was seeping inwards cutting her off from Hecher. The ice grew and splintered, brittle shards breaking away. Her breath became slower, shallower, and started spiraling skyward.
Fingertips and lips touched briefly, soft as feathers gently drifting down to settle forever. Their hearts were as heavy as lifeless leaden weights. Extremities began to tingle. Feet and hands turned numb with the encroaching cold.
And they began to change.
Solid turned gaseous. Their molecules spiraled into the immediate space around them, sparking, forming the fine scarlet threads, thoughts and memories, a bright dazzling helix of stars amongst the now visible writhing scarlet ribbons. The ribbons unwrapped and snaked through the heavy air like frenetic loose electrical wires in a wild frenzy.
More sparks flew.
Faster the procedure progressed. Again the dismembering sequence tore and ripped the two ancients apart, flinging their disembodied forms out into the miasma of space and time. There was a final explosion of dazzling pinpoints of light before they faded into the vast black void of space.
A cosmic crisp clear sound resonated with a harmonic choral resonance akin to that of a solitary piping of an ancient flute, hauntingly melancholy and clear.
And that haunting melody played betwixt the distant Sculptor and Eridanus. They waited patiently for The Calling to come once more….
****
The Calling came again for Terah and Hecher.
Though they were star crossed lovers throughout centuries past when their lives followed entirely different paths: now alone: long forgotten memories surfaced that would bring them back into each other's orbit once again.
Terah Thewe knew she had to seek her other half to become whole again. All since the start the year 2016 when long dormant recesses within her mind had stirred, awakening once more.
Then she had started actively seeking and searching to find the real reason, her purpose, on this planet Earth. A subconscious plan had started to unfurl, a deeply burning desire and a need to change both physically and spiritually. To reach out and find much needed answers; and a star stone.
Time was spent sitting alone, on the internet, or staring mesmerized into flames from the burning pine boughs. Terah watched the flames as they danced crazily, reaching upward and outward toward her. The warmth of the fire only intensified the aloneness she felt in her cold, hardened heart.
Then something odd began to happen. Faint nebulous memories began to plague her. Then words came to her. Faint at first, and repeated over and over.
There is glory in death and dying if only
To show the beauty of life.
Let there be a reason and a purpose for
such a sacrifice….
The connection was made. It locked onto two ethereal spirits dwelling within their humanoid forms. Flames started springing to life again, and the faint thin scarlet ribbonous threads crackled with seeds of primal energy, pulsed into life and grew stronger. The ribbons expanded and thickened, and then began to grow longer.
Terah smiled, she knew.
“Scarlet ribbons,” she whispered, and peered again at the fire, “he’s coming, my friends.”
Memories surfaced again, of the time drawing near to set up the previous star stone grid. It was close that time. It was vital to be ready when the star grid was up and aligned precisely, for the grid had been weakened much over the eons. It had been left unattended and would only last a short time, a fraction of the space time continuum, before it went down and finally died for good. Perhaps it was already too late after the failure in 2012.
“The stars were right in their course”, came the whispering voice of a Watcher. “That final alignment was to begin December 21, 2012, 22:18 hours as time was known in Cairo, at Queen Henutsen’s pyramid at the Khufu site”. That had been the focal point to complete the alignment.
“Giza, where the final two star stones were to be placed,” Terah said softly. “We were there but we failed when Hetcher’s stone had been a counterfeit.
There was a moment of stark realization, then Hecher had pulled back the star stone. The time had passed. The grid was not activated. The stars had moved into their destined configuration and continued along on their pathways.
Without the true stone the grid, the web, had not been activated. Now a weaker activation would have to be tried in 2030 with a serious boost of extra power as only the Naica crystals could give.
It needed the true stone not a false one this time.
A search had to be made to rediscover that lost treasure, the true star stone and that was why Hecher was coming.
Off to an early start here Lynette...its a busy month here. Blessings to you and your loved ones
Mod
© Rejoice Denhere 2016
950 words
On Monday night I stayed with her for an hour after visiting time had ended. The nurses didn’t kick me out when they came to give her morphine at 20:30. They gave her another drug as well, as she was in so much pain. I almost couldn’t bear to watch as she moaned and cried like a child.
Fortunately, the morphine kicked in quite quickly and soon the cries quietened. I held her hand all the time to comfort her and didn’t stop praying. I wouldn’t stop praying. God just had to show up and show his power, I challenged him.
I asked her if she wanted anything. “A hug.” I held her tightly and she whispered, “I love you.” “I love you too sweetheart.”
I could see her eyelids drooping. “I’m sleepy,” she said. “Ok sweetheart, you can go to sleep now.”
I made sure she was comfortable and that everything she needed was within her reach. Slowly, I removed her glasses then kissed her on the forehead. I wrote a short note which I placed by her bed. I wanted it to be the first thing she saw when she woke up. “I love you.”
I walked out of the room and quietly closed the door behind me. Away from her, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. This was the weekend we had planned to spend together.
“You’re always working and I never get to see you,” she’d complained, “and next week you’re going away.”
“I have an idea. When I get back, I will spend at least one weekend a month with you.”
“Yeah right!”
“I’m serious. And you know what else we’ll do?”
“No. Tell me so we’ll both know.”
“We’ll come here to the park. I’ll tie a yellow ribbon around…
“...the old oak tree.”
“There are no oak trees around here sweetheart. I was going to say I’ll tie one around a pine bough by this tree.”
“You’re crazy as hell you know that?”
“I love you too!”
The consultant wanted to start her on a new drug which had been successfully administered to the first group of patients. As the treatment was still new there was a lot of press interest.
While abroad, I kept up to date with the news on the drug’s performance and called her daily to find out how she was doing. She always sounded positive and in good spirits.
On the day of my return home, I woke up to a bright, beautiful morning. I quickly grabbed my phone to text her. “Good morning, your highness,” I teased. I expected a chiding in her reply. When I got no response, I wasn’t worried, just concerned. I was looking forward to seeing her again. That was enough to keep me in a good mood.
I was about to turn off the television and leave for the airport when the news anchor announced breaking news which had me morphing from joy to anger. Patients receiving treatment were experiencing adverse symptoms.
Truth be told, the real reason for my anger was fear. Pure fear in its rawest form. Fear of losing the love of my life. When I noticed that she still hadn’t responded to my text message I tried calling but the phone went to voicemail. Panic gripped me.
The 10-hour flight felt like 24 hours. When I landed I hired a taxi to take me to the hospital. The taxi driver offered me a newspaper to read and asked what radio station I wanted to listen to. I politely declined both offers. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. The taxi driver didn’t give up. “It’s unbelievable what these pharmaceutical companies do - treating people like animals. Murderers! Now those poor patients on that new drug have all died.”
When I woke up in a hospital bed I wasn’t sure why I was there. I must have fainted. When I remembered the reason, the raw pain of loss cut like a knife. In desperation, I called her number hoping that someone would answer and tell me what was going on. It only went to voicemail. I was detained in hospital for over a week following allegations that, when staff wouldn’t give me details about her, I had become extremely aggressive thus endangering my life and that of others.
Shortly after being discharged I moved to another part of town to help me cope with my loss and the devastation I felt.
That was three years ago.
Today I decided to visit the park again. I thought I might tie a yellow ribbon around a pine bough so she’d know I remember her. On the grass, a pine bough with a yellow ribbon tied around it caught my eye. It was too much for me. I sat down with my head in my hands and cried.
I don’t know how long I was there but a tap on my shoulder brought me out of my stupor.
“Hello!” It wasn’t an illusion. It was really her. She encircled me with her arms and gave me big hug.
I was relieved to learn that at the last minute she had declined to take the drug and opted for alternative therapy instead.
“It was working very well and I wanted to keep it as a surprise until I was fully recovered.”
“Why didn’t you get in touch?”
“On the day of your return, I accidentally dropped my phone in the bathtub. I couldn’t reach you for a whole week after that. Your phone just went to voicemail. Later I heard you had moved away. I figured you didn’t want to be with someone with health issues. But I couldn’t forget you.”
Thank you ladies for your powerful stories. We still have one week left and I hoping we might get a few more last minute entries.
Mod
Mod
by Glenda Reynolds
My fondest memories are of the years I lived with my grandmother Mimi in East Tennessee. She was a country preacher. You can imagine the tales she would tell about baptizing people in cold, swift creeks – hanging on for dear life to pine boughs with a man who had a wooden leg. That leg just didn' t want to be baptized with the rest of him. She was full of theatrics when she described walking through woods on a mountain when a strange man accosted her and her little boys. He rushed them to shelter and safety right before a pack of mountain lions came into view. She enjoyed retelling her visit to the Middle East. She swore that one man wanted to add her to his haram. If only he knew how loudly she snored! On another occasion she faked that she was sleeping in her hotel room when a man sneaked in to steal from her. Thank goodness she had enough sense to wear a money belt.
Here in Tennessee, Mimi had the most bazar things happen to her such as seeing the ghosts of dead relatives. Her second oldest son died of carbon monoxide. He would come and visit her at night. She would hear the bells ring on the front door. The ghost of her son would walk into the bedroom, sit on the bed, and talk to her.
She saw one lady in a graveyard say, “Please don't pick my flowers,” and then the ghost fell into the earth.
This wasn't quite as bazar as when she was a little girl attending a funeral. She was sleeping with a cousin when a demon appeared on top of the headboard. It kept leaping from the headboard to the footboard as it hissed continuously. The cousin gripped Mimi's wrist tightly out of fear until the morning.
I never questioned Mimi out of doubt of the validity of her stories. They are good stories. Maybe one day I'll truly know if they are true, embellished or just made up.
During my high school years, my father gave me a gold ring that I suspect he fashioned himself. It was one large heart looped inside a smaller heart with a diamond in between. When I used the phone in Mimi's room, my ring was lost in the crevice of the floor board behind her bed. Years later when I attended her funeral, I stood at her casket. To my surprise, my gold ring – a bit scrunched up - lay on top of the Bible with a ribbon in the casket. My cousin quickly plucked it out and gave it to me. It has become my favorite ring, save for my wedding band. What else could spark such memories and the stories behind them?
Sweet MemoriesI meant to turn off the burner. Honestly, you’d think I was the first person who ever got distracted. Mrs. Guthrie is such an old busybody! I can’t imagine what she was thinking when she called Carly. It’s not as though I burned the house down. I was just one little pot.
I knew I was in trouble as soon as I saw her call come in. She barely said hello before starting in on me.
“Mother,” she always calls me ‘Mother’ when she’s angry with me.
“Mother, I don’t understand what’s gotten into you.”
“What do you mean, Dear?”
“Don’t play coy with me. You know what I’m talking about.”
“Mrs. Guthrie should mind her own business.”
“She is. I pay her to keep an eye on you so this kind of thing doesn’t happen…so I don’t have to worry about you.”
“Oh, pooh! There’s no reason for you to fret. I’m perfectly fine. I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”
“You know what Dr. Lin said.”
“What does she know?”
“Nothing, Mother. She just has years of education and experience in…”
“Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it.”
Carly knew how it upset me to suggest I was getting senile. That’s for old people.
“Very well, but we’re going to have to make a decision soon. As much as I need to stay here and prep for trial, I think I need to come for Christmas.”
That was music to my ears. Carly and my grandson, Philip, hadn’t been home for years. The boy was just a tyke then.
It was only three days until Christmas and there was so much to do before Carly and…what was his name? Oh, yes, Michael or was it…well, anyway there was so much to do to get ready for company.
“Mrs. Gutherie, today we should put the pine bough on the mantle and decorate the Christmas tree. It would be so nice to have it done before my daughter comes home from school. She’ll be so surprised.
“Now, Jenny, you remember Carly isn’t in school anymore. She’s a lawyer now.”
“She is? Well, nevertheless, she’ll be surprised. Then, tomorrow she and I can bake cookies together. We’ve baked cookies together every Christmas since she was a toddler.”
“Dear, you haven’t baked with her for years. Carly is much too important to spend time making cookies.”
I didn’t understand what Mrs. Gutherie was talking about. How could Carly be so important? She was smart and pretty as a picture, but so were lots of other kids.”
The next day, Carly finally arrived. “Where’s Brian?” I asked, looking around for my son-in-law.
“Mom, you remember Brian and I got a divorce three years ago.”
“Oh, pooh! I remember no such thing. Why, it was just last month you were here for my birthday and told your father and me that you’re expecting.”
She sighed like she was tired, and I can only imagine that she was what with new baby, and all.
Suddenly, I noticed there was someone with her. “Who’s this young man?”
“Mom, this is Phillip. Phillip, say hello to your grandmother.”
“Hi,” the boy muttered under his breath. I don’t know who he was, but he certainly was odd.
The next morning, I woke up late. I’m turning into a regular lazy bones! By the time I made it downstairs, Carly and Phillip had left to do some shopping. That reminded me I hadn’t gotten a thing for either of them. I decided to take care of that before everyone got home. However, after breakfast, I was so tired, I just settled into my recliner for a quick nap. I intended to just catch forty winks, but when I woke up, I realized I had been asleep for nearly three hours.
It was almost time for Mrs. Guthrie to arrive – she always comes late on Wednesdays…or was it Fridays? Either way, I had to hurry to get some gifts from the basement before she or the kids came home. Of course, my husband wouldn’t be home for hours.
I had a few items carefully hidden from prying eyes…you know how children can be. I soon found them and some ribbon and was ready to check out, but there was no one there to take my money. How peculiar.
That evening, Carly and Phillip watched an old movie with Jimmy Stewart. It had been my husband’s favorite. The star looked so young and vital, and it made me sad to think that he had grown old and died, just like my husband. I missed him so much. The holidays weren’t quite as bright without him. I wondered what was keeping him. He usually wasn’t out so late, especially on Christmas Eve.
The next morning, Carly came downstairs, awoken by the smell of my famous cinnamon rolls. The little boy, a neighbor, I believe, who was visiting, stayed right by her side. Poor thing! Imagine being left with strangers, and on Christmas, to boot.
After breakfast, we went to open presents. Phillip’s tag said it was from me, but why would I give him that old crock pot?
Next it was Carly’s turn. “Daddy and I wish we could have gotten the doll you asked Santa for, but this year has been tough.”
“It’s okay, Mom.” I wondered why she had a tear in her eye. There wasn’t a spec of dust in the house.
“Mom, it’s Baby Girl! Where did you find her?”
“I didn’t find her. Daddy made her and I painted her face and sewed her clothes. We just finished her last night.”
“Mom, you made her for me when I was eight. I remember it like it was yesterday. I had started to think Santa wasn’t real, but when I saw her, I knew he was. That was the best Christmas ever.”
Carly sat for a long time holding the doll. It was so good to see her happy.
Mod
I meant to turn off the burner. Honestly, you’d think I was the first person who ever got distracted. Mrs. Guthrie is such an old busybody! I can’t imagine what she was thinking whe..."
What a lovely story Rebecca. My eyes were watering as I read it.
Mod
by Glenda Reynolds
My fondest memories are of the years I lived with my grandmother Mimi in East Tennessee. She was a country preacher. You can imagine the tales she would tell..."
I couldn’t help laughing when I read your story because it reminds me of someone I know! Very engaging and well narrated.
Mod
Glenda wrote: "Rejoice, what a gripping story and right before bed too! Loved it."
Thank you Glenda!
Mod
The alliance Terah and Hecher shared had ended.
… Terah could no longer hold nor handle the pain. A loneliness was enfolding her in a fo..."
Beautifully descriptive story which allowed my imagination to run wild. I thoroughly enjoyed reading your story. I could feel the pain of a lost opportunity and then hope resurrected at the possibility of a second chance.
Hello everyone,Enjoyable stories this month, and noted the unique style within each of the writers.
Christene's clever word usage, Rebecca's descriptive,
Glenda's recall of Mimi and overall narrative, and Rejoice capturing the warmth and loving concern for another human are noted.
Happy holidays to you and yours,
David Russell
Congratulations on your stories, December participants. I'll jump back in during the month of January.
To all my fellow Writers 750 family,Heather Schuldt, the founder of the Writers 750 Group is running a contest on December 24th. So far, only 4 authors have signed up. This is a cash contest. With that said, may your holiday be special. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, and a very Happy New Year.
https://www.eventbrite.com/e/giant-ta...
The Bough for Leading to More by F. F. Burwick (964 words)Phineas had enough of the long voyage to see the old world, and he was ready to come home. It had him away for over six weeks, and the excitement of seeing new things had been a nice distraction for awhile, but that didn't last through all that time. He thought more and more about home, and if his brother Victor who had been watching the house and staying there overnight continuously had been responsible enough. He recalled that in earlier years Victor had shown irresponsibility in his ways a number of times. These were troubled times when homes left unoccupied for a time were vulnerable to break-ins. So Phineas was happy when he was going home at last.
As he pulled up in front of his house, he felt that something was different. The grass in front was a bit longer, but the house still looked alright. Then as he walked up toward the front door, he then saw the cut off bough from the pine tree growing in front, laying under it. "Victor!" he called after he unlocked and opened the door. "What is the meaning of this damage to the tree?!"
After a couple of moments Victor came up through the hall from another room. He resembled Phineas with those stern features, but this was with giving a different mood with the hair he had growing on his head given a bit less care.
"You know this pine tree has grown so much," he answered, "and though we had it planted originally in the middle of this front yard far enough from this house, it had grown enough to reach it. While you were away, that lower bough was grown enough to push against the house. I had Todd, that arborist living down the street, tell me that in a few weeks it would exert enough pressure to crack the house wall at that spot. The tree would have to be trimmed to avoid that. But I knew I could cut it myself, rather than have others paid to do it, so I cut that bough. This way the house won't be damaged."
Phineas had his memories take him back many years to his younger days. He was with Ruthie planting that tree as a sapling, and Victor was there but just a little boy that wasn't giving much help for that. And he thought more of Ruthie, at the time he grew feelings for her, but didn't grow bold enough to say anything other than very small hints he liked being with her. But when she grew interested in boys it was other youths, and Phineas wound up going with Elise, and they had married, and only then did Ruthie grow closer to him. But he had made his choice, and stayed faithfully with Elise, and eventually he and Ruthie grew distant, and she moved from the neighborhood to across town.
Elise was not well after a decade had passed, her health had deteriorated, and after six more years she had passed on. Phineas was alone then, still he worked on, and he communicated more with his brother again, helping him out from some trouble coming about with his irresponsibility.
This reflection brought him back to the present circumstances. "Victor," he said, "you cut off all this bough, when a smaller portion would have been enough to trim. And here we are stuck with it laying here. Did you not give that any thought?"
Victor stood there, thoughtful. "Well, can't it be used for firewood?"
"The chimney with this house is not safe for use, so we never used it, and it can't be used now." Phineas thought more, and it occurred to him that he could use this bough as a basis to communicate with Ruthie again, now that he had been reminded of her. She had helped him plant the tree, so this would be of some interest to her.
But rather than call her, which he thought might be awkward, he could bring the great branch to her house, and leave a note that he could sign, of how it had been from the tree she helped plant and which had needed to be cut off, and it was a gift to her, for wood she could choose how to use. It also occurred to him Ruthie might not want it, so he could leave provision that he would take it back in that case. But it should look like a gift for her, not like what he was dumping on her. He actually hoped for renewed communication between them. He knew she had been single, though he couldn't know if she had more recently found someone to keep seeing and possibly marry. Even if that was the case he would value a renewed friendship.
So he told Victor they needed to find some nice ribbon, to tie around the pine bough in a nice way. With looking where old useful things were kept in the house and where such might be found, they came up with a wide rosy hued cotton ribbon. Phineas took it out, and wound it around the bough and tied in a nice bow. He then wrote the note to say those things he had thought of, attaching it with the ribbon.
No one was at Ruthie's home when they got there, so they brought the bough up to the front door there, and laid ribbon tied gift in front of it. They then went home, Phineas still wondering what he would yet hear from Ruthie. Later that day he heard from her, and was glad to hear she was happy with that gesture, and would like seeing him again. And he heard she wasn't married or with anyone then either.
Mod
Phineas had enough of the long voyage to see the old world, and he was ready to come home. It had him away for over six weeks, and the ex..."
What a lovely feel good story with a happy ending. I liked it! Merry Christmas!
Great story. Can't wait to see if Phineas and Ruthie develop a long lasting relationship.
I hope everyone had a great Christmas. We are down to the final hours before the last contest of 2016 closes. Voting opens at 12:59 pm mst. Be sure to place your votes by pm or email them to me at whitefantasybooks@gmail.com. Remember your votes count out as follows.
1st place-3 pts
2nd place-2 pts
3rd place- 1 pt.
I will also award my special awards on January 1.
Stories posted so far. If I missed any please let me know.
The Calling Comes by Christene Britton-Jones
I Remember You By Rejoice Denhere
Treasured Memories by Glenda Reynolds
Sweet Memories By Rebecca Lacy
The Bough for Leading to More by F. F. Burwick
Just two more days to cast your votes. Just to show how every votes counts:1st place: tie
2nd place: two point difference.
The last two people can change everything.
Rejoice wrote: "I Remember You© Rejoice Denhere 2016
950 words
On Monday night I stayed with her for an hour after visiting time had ended. The nurses didn’t kick me out when they came to give her morphine at 20..." Great story.
Ok, I waited until the last moment for the last voter, but it looks like life has distracted her so I am officially closing out the December Contest. YOUR WINNERS ARE::: (drum roll)
Ist Place goes to: I Remember You by Rejoice
2nd Place winner is: Sweet Memories by Rebecca
3rd Place: Treasured Memories by Glenda
Little fact, 3 points separated 1st and 3rd. One little ole point divided first and second. The lead flipped more than once as the votes came in.
Congrats to our winners!!!
Now for the Lynette White Awards.
The best Mythology dramatization - Christene
The Best story of devoted love-Rejoice
Proof that little miracles can show up anywhere- Glenda
A tender perspective on such an awful disease-Rebecca
Never underestimate fate-Fred
Now is tis time to support David and put on our thinking caps for the January challenge.
Thank you, Lynette and all who participated.
Thank you Rebecca for writing such a touching story.
Mod
Congratulations to the winners. Keep writing all and Happy New Year!
Congratulations to those awarded 1st, 2nd and 3rd place....hard to chose from the entries as all were super great stories. Thanks for your support and kind words Lynette they are a great boost to me as I have only started writing again this year and the December story is the start of the 2nd part of a story I have written and not completed...I am still working on the cover thanks to an idea from Glenda. I think that 2017 is going to be the best year for us all....HAPPY NEW YEAR to you all...keep up the excellent writing.
Mod
Happy New Year Everyone!
For many of us 2016 has had it challenges, those moments when we considered throwing in the towel and walking away. But , we persevered because something, or someone, inspired us to stand up and keep fighting. For me it was a long forgotten tale that I heard months ago.
As I thought about how many of these stories seem to disappear simply because because they are forgotten I was moved. So I decided our final challenge will be to create a forgotten tale that is rediscovered by you, the author, or your character.
Highlights:
* A pine bough
* a ribbon
* a forgotten story. memory, or moment
Theme: Rediscovering a lost treasure.
Some story ideas:
The true story of Daniel Boone's daughter who was abducted by hostile Indians. Knowing her father would be searching for her, she tore off pieces of her skirt to lead him to her.
A mom is serving in a far away land and her son/daughter sends her a piece of home for Christmas.
Hiding in the forest from his enemies, a rogue knight learns he has friends after all.
He had everything: a gorgeous mansion filled with all the treasures a person could desire, billions in banks all over the world, people constantly striving to bask in his light. Why then was his most treasured possession a carefully preserved pine bough and a small red ribbon?
They were star crossed lovers decades ago but their lives followed two entirely different paths. Now alone, a long forgotten memory brings them back into each other's orbit once again.
Setting – any
Plot – your choice
Length: 500 to 1,000 Words
Deadline: December 26th at 11:59 pm MST.
Voting will start 12:01 am Dec. 27th and closes at 11:59 pm on Dec. 30th. Winners will be posted in this thread on January 1st.
Genre: Fantasy, Thriller, Sci-Fi, Mystery, Crime, Comedy, Romance, or a mixture (BASICALLY, anything but erotica)
Purpose -
Some fiction writers are looking to win a short story contest, keeping in touch with making deadlines, and/or simply sharpening the skill of writing fiction. The main purpose of this contest is to sharpen plot and character skills, collect your own short stories, receive good feedback, make a good connection with other writers, and take a short break from your current novel to get a fresh view when you return to it.
Rules and Directions -
* Type in English - a minimum of 500 words; a maximum of 1,000 words; no erotica, no profanity.
* Post your title, by line, and word count total in the first line of your story posting.
* Writers are responsible for their own copyright. Authors keep all rights. PRIVACY POLICY IS ENFORCED. COPYRIGHTS AND INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY RIGHTS BELONG TO INDIVIDUAL AUTHORS. THIS CONTEST DOES NOT GRANT ANY PERSON THE RIGHT OR LICENSE TO COPY OR USE OTHER STORIES. EACH STORY IS PROTECTED BY THE COPYRIGHT OF THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR.
* ONE entry per person, must be writer's original work, a final revision, and a new piece of writing. Please do not delete and re-post since this becomes confusing to the readers. Try to post your final revision.
Judging: The story will be judged on creativity, proper grammar, good punctuation, and overall good quality for story.
Voting: Please vote for first, second, and third place. Votes are tallied as follows:
First place: 3 votes
Second Place: 2 votes
Third Place: 1 vote
You are not allowed to vote for yourself. If posting this month, you MUST vote, in order for your story to remain eligible.
GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN!