SFF Chronicles News
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- Oct 20, 2013
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26th August 2013 12:22 AM
Teresa Edgerton
Once again, the victory in our quarterly writing challenge goes to writer Em Tett (known on these forums as Mouse). Each quarter, members are challenged to write a story of 300 words or less, inspired by an image chosen by our moderators. The prize is a voucher for £10 to be spent at Amazon. The image for July appears above, and Em’s winning story below.
All That Glitters
Watching, waiting, looking on and salivating. Rings bling in a window and I won’t go, though Crow said no – said, “Pay for it with your own dough.”
Said I, “But why? Doesn’t fly, that, with me.”
Shiny things in shops, cops watch, can’t rob and no job. I want it all for free, see.
Crow’s a witch, a human-switched bitch. Tight-arsed, two-faced, money-hoarding waste of space. Won’t help, gone home, flown away, left me alone.
Magic rings, the gold sings of castles and kings and things I can’t have. Or need. I won’t leave, I’ll grieve. It’s a tragedy. I concede it’s greed. I have no fingers. Want lingers.
Mustn’t look, mustn’t stay, come again another day. But still I stop outside the shop, longing, yearning, never learning. It’s caught my beady eye. Will I die? Pfft. Not I!
I take to the sky and fly. I’m Magpie.
(Besides, I’ve seen a cat.)
_________
Photo by Ken O’Brien
Teresa Edgerton
Once again, the victory in our quarterly writing challenge goes to writer Em Tett (known on these forums as Mouse). Each quarter, members are challenged to write a story of 300 words or less, inspired by an image chosen by our moderators. The prize is a voucher for £10 to be spent at Amazon. The image for July appears above, and Em’s winning story below.
All That Glitters
Watching, waiting, looking on and salivating. Rings bling in a window and I won’t go, though Crow said no – said, “Pay for it with your own dough.”
Said I, “But why? Doesn’t fly, that, with me.”
Shiny things in shops, cops watch, can’t rob and no job. I want it all for free, see.
Crow’s a witch, a human-switched bitch. Tight-arsed, two-faced, money-hoarding waste of space. Won’t help, gone home, flown away, left me alone.
Magic rings, the gold sings of castles and kings and things I can’t have. Or need. I won’t leave, I’ll grieve. It’s a tragedy. I concede it’s greed. I have no fingers. Want lingers.
Mustn’t look, mustn’t stay, come again another day. But still I stop outside the shop, longing, yearning, never learning. It’s caught my beady eye. Will I die? Pfft. Not I!
I take to the sky and fly. I’m Magpie.
(Besides, I’ve seen a cat.)
_________
Photo by Ken O’Brien
