Scribbler. Dreamer. World class procrastinator.
Change of Heart
Even though I’m not supposed to, I snatch the key from the window ledge and swing the back door open. I stand on the doorstep and look across the garden. It must be early as I’m up before the sun, and the trees look like huge shadowy monsters in the dark.
- Runner-Up in If Walls Could Talk
The Last WordRunner-Up in If Walls Could Talk
If walls could talk, I would tell you that I’m sorry. *** I can tell it’s your first time inside. Your eyes widen as the metal door swings open and you clutch the pile of clothes up against you. You freeze in the doorway, blinking hard and swallowing, as if you’ve only just realized where you are. I wasn’t sure you were ever going to move, and maybe you wouldn’t have, if the guard hadn’t tapped you on the arm and propelled you into the room.
Charley freezes as she pulls the heavy fire door open just a couple of inches. An ear-popping squealing sound ricochets off the stairwell’s concrete walls. Hush, she whispers, as she peers round the door and scans the deserted hallway. Holding onto the frame for support, she hops from foot to foot as she kicks off her boots. She squeezes through the small gap and tiptoes along the corridor, her socks slipping on the polished tiles.
- Runner-Up in Reset Your Password Challenge
FlooredRunner-Up in Reset Your Password Challenge
The weather matches her mood. Miserable with no sign of improvement. Lizzie stands with her face pressed up against the window and gazes into the distance. The dark clouds are so heavy they sink into the swirling grey seawater and a thin layer of mist looks like it’s been smeared across the horizon.
The Daily Grind
Hannah chews the end of her pen and glares at the laptop. She’s sick to death of staring at the same three words on her screen – Tax Auditing Software. She’s changed the font and the color a million times to see if that inspired her, but now the relentless flashing of the cursor just seems to be mocking her lack of progress.
The reporter dangled out of the helicopter and pointed to a clearing in the jungle. As the wind whipped through his blond hair, he clasped the headset with his right hand and swiveled back to the camera. He smiled and his white teeth sparkled in the sun. Over the chopping noise of the rotor blades, he shouted: “Colombia is already the world’s largest producer of cocaine, but now the drug cartels are ramping up their operations. And it’s down there where it all begins. In the illegal jungle labs where the raw product, coca, undergoes a sequence of chemical changes. From there…”
- Runner-Up in The Mystery Box Challenge
Other Side of the Tracks
Kate scans the departures board with a growing sense of panic. She can’t see her train listed anywhere. She’d been certain she needed to change at Ely station but now she’s standing on the rapidly emptying platform she’s not so sure. She feels quite sick.
As her foot slides on the cobblestones, Meghan regrets her decision to park such a distance from the restaurant. When she’d abandoned her car in the leafy sideroad after work it was still daylight, the wintry sun casting long shadows across the street. But now as the church clock strikes half past eleven, she shivers in the darkness and pushes her hands further inside her jacket pockets.