Count me in, Mr Soldier.  PM sent.

I'll read it!

tigersgogrrr wrote:

I'll read it!

PM me your email mate and I'll send it on its way

Raiziel wrote:

Have read your story, DS.  Out for the day now, so don’t have time to compose my thoughts at the moment.  But when I do, do you want feedback here or via pm?

PM is fine mate, very much appreciated thank you.

Good stuff, DS! Sorry I didn't get to your other story. Life is a killer at the moment.

Dark Soldier wrote:

Apex is doing a horror holiday comp, max 250 words.

Submitted this today:

Spoiler:

I sit on the kitchen chair this Christmas Eve, the frayed Santa suit ill-fitting, the nylon beard itching my chin. I have done this for the past ten years. Milk and cookies on the mantle. The tree is bereft of decorations or cheer.

Abigail sits on my lap. Her hair is wet and limp, droplets pattering on the floor. Forever six years old.

“Have you been a good girl this year?”

“Yes Santa!” she enthuses.

“Fantastic! And what do you want for Christmas this year, Abigail?”

I hold back my tears.

“The same thing I always ask for Santa!” She turns and looks at me. A toothless grin. Her eyes are soulless. It is never how I remember her.

“I want my daddy. I miss him so much.”

The tears come now. I blink, wiping them away and Abigail is gone. The kitchen is cold. It is always so fleeting.

On the way to the lake that night I posted the letter to my ex-wife. I don’t know if the prison warden will allow her to read it, but I want her to know I forgive her. I cannot live like this anymore.

I step heavily into the water, the bricks taped to my body. The nylon beard floats on the surface as the water begins to pull me down. She is down here with me, in the deep and dark. We are happy again.

Daddy loves you, Abigail, look for me under the tree.

Having read the three previous winning entries, yours wouldn’t seem out of place amongst them. Great effort DS.

Cheers lads!

Shabby - its good, ive put it on the backburner for the moment as starting writing The Incubator, which has been swimming in my head for ages.

Good stuff, DS!

I thought I'd give this a quick go this afternoon.  Goddamn it is not easy.  Two hundred and fifty words is nothing.  Here it is anyway, and just a quick and dirty first draft effort.

***

     My name is Constance Fairweather.  I am twenty-two years old, I live up there in the manor on the hill, and I am half of one.  I have always been half of one, being the secondborn.  The other half of me, firstborn and fully fifty-seven minutes older than me, is my brother Deliverance.
     He's walking up ahead of me now; marching through the bristling heather with his usual determination.  He has the swagger that I have never had.  He is loud where I am quiet.  He is impulsive while I am cautious.  We fit together well, I think; each half filling out the deficiencies in the other half.  I cannot imagine a life without him.  What would I be but just the parts of him that are not there?
     Deliverance is tugging a girl behind him down the slope.  He isn't gentle with her, but she laughs like it's a game.  She calls his name between convulsive giggles and implores him to slow down.  He doesn't slow down.  He doesn't look back.  I wander along behind them both.
     By the time we reach the desiccated cherry tree the sun is down behind the hills above us.  It's cold.  The girl's not laughing now.  He presses her against the slender bole.  She looks afraid.  He is ravenous.
     She screams when he opens her stomach with a paring knife, but there's no one here to hear her.
     I wonder why I do the things I do?

Haha!  I didn’t even go onto the site to check the rules, not that I was really intending to submit it anyway.  Just wanted to try the challenge of doing something super short.  It’s not my forte.

Good efforts at those micro-stories. An interesting challenge.

I started a short for the horror thing but didn't finish it. Basically taking my boy's imaginary friend (Biddi) and making him scary. With, like, an egg shaped head and thinning hair and oily eyes and argh it was going to be horrible. Only I didn't finish writing it.

I did just finish a different short, if anyone cares to read.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1F_pWT7qOOu-7zmFin0mxBu2Sjm7rhaCD-dGm3V0gvKI/edit?usp=sharing

Thanks for taking the time to read it!

Did...


Were there any weird inconsistencies you noticed? The story changed a lot through the writing and it can be really hard to find these things sometimes...

Thanks. The 'weren't' is supposed to be colloquial but perhaps it doesn't work.

Because I can’t see my nephews this Christmas I’m trying to make up for it by writing each of them letters from Santa Claus.  It is not easy keeping them short.

The cities one in particular is brilliant. Well done, would read more.