In First Place is Jean Randall from the Writebulb Writers Group.
Blackness, silence, the bittersweet taste of bile and blood erupted from her body.
Her dream cottage lay a few yards away on her right hand side facing the tranquillity of the river.
“It’ll be the death of you” her father had commented wryly as he’d viewed Heartsease Cottage just before he’d died.
“Lorna, Lorna” shouted a voice sharpened by anxiety.
Dry twigs impatiently snapped beneath running feet; Pete noticed the deeply scarred road as he ran towards her.
Her prized Ducati’s formerly gleaming frame lay nestled beside her; symbolising she painfully considered her shattered dreams.
“Mummy, Mummy where are you?” wailed an unanswered voice.
In Second Place is Adrienne Tinn from the Harlow Writing Group.
He sat staring into the distance, his old dog Tom beside him. He looked thankfully at the nearby bus stop. He knew the timetable by heart. Due to his failing health, poor eyesight and arthritic fingers he could no longer drive. The bus was there again – the untimetabled bus which had been arriving regularly at eleven each night. It waited there a while then silently moved off vanishing into the distance. Tonight although the pain in his hands and arm was really bad, he together with Tom would catch that mysterious bus and see where it took him.
In Third Place is Beverly Townsend from the Writebulb Writers Group.
Brenda stepped into the lift avoiding looking at her reflection in the mirror. With a gloved hand to avoid infection she pressed floor 3. She took a deep breath, counting to four as she exhaled in an effort to slow her thumping heart. Staring at the metal floor she heard the click of the lift doors closing behind her. With a sigh she reluctantly looked in the mirror as the floor started to move. A red flushed face stared back at her, downlighted by a single ceiling bulb.
“Why does it have to be so difficult visiting my mother?”
Congratulations to everyone that took part, and we hope to see you at next year's launch!