Short Story Competition 8 (I Spy) - VOTE HERE!

pickarooney

This week we ran a flashfiction competition where we asked contestants to write 500 or so words in 60 minutes on a theme to be announced just before the clock started ticking.

That theme was:
I spy with my little eye something beginning with G

The competition took place from 7 a.m. until the last entrant had finished on the night of the 16th of February. Each contestant was sent the outline at a time of his/her choosing and submitted it within the hour.

For more details on the competition, see the discussion in this thread.

We had 10 contestants, 7 of whom made the deadline.

It's now over to you to read the stories, to vote and to give us your opinions on them. Please give the authors as much feedback, positive or negative but above all constructive, as you can.

Stories will be posted anonymously and the winner revealed after voting closes, at around 10 a.m. on Thursday 23rd February. You may vote for as many stories as you like, all we ask is that you give a reason for your vote in the form of a post on this thread.

Voting is public, and votes without a post in the thread will be ignored.

The order of the stories is, as usual, randomly generated.

Best of luck to all involved and thanks in advance to those who take the time to read and rate the entries.

pickarooney

VERSION 7

I SPY

It was a long time since I’d visited my aunt Mary. I used to bring my mother to visit and it was quite enjoyable listening to them reminisce about old times but I didn’t really have much to talk to her about. I asked after her health, which wasn’t good, but she wasn’t one to complain. She mentioned she’d been in hospital about a month ago. I said she should have rung me and I’d have visited but she said, “You spent long enough running in and out to that hospital, I don’t suppose you ever want to see the inside of it again.”

She was right. I had no desire to visit the hospital but I would have gone to see her, out of duty. The sense of duty that had brought me to her modest little house. The sense of duty that had taken me into the hospital every night when Mum was sick.

“How is John getting on?” she asked, more to make conversation than because she wanted to know.

“I’m sure he’s grand,” I replied. “I don’t see much of him. He’s always busy. I don’t suppose he ever calls you.”

“I got a card from him at Christmas, and a nice bunch of flowers.”

That was John alright. He was good at sending flowers. Always sending flowers to the hospital but never visiting. London isn’t that far away. He managed to leave his important job for long enough to come to the funeral and he did pay the undertaker, as well he might when Mum had left him everything. I took her rings, although I suppose legally they belonged to him too but he never asked about them.

I went upstairs to the bathroom and noticed the door of Mary’s bedroom was open. On the dressing table I spied a gold ring. I thought of the man at the door of the Cash for Gold shop I passed every day. “Any bits of gold jewellery you want to sell? We give the best price.” I wished I had but there had never been anyone to give me jewellery and tight as things were I wouldn’t sell Mum’s rings but I had no attachment to anything of Mary’s. Very quietly I slipped into the room, lifted the ring and a few other bits. I opened a couple of drawers and messed things around then went downstairs and drank tea with the woman I’d just robbed.

I was at home a couple of hours when she rang, understandably upset at having been burgled. “They didn’t take much, just a couple of rings, they didn’t get any money. The worst thing is knowing somebody was in my house, in broad daylight, when we were talking. The guards said they would have been ‘casing the joint’, saw you coming in. I always keep the door locked when I’m here on my own. They say it’s the price of gold that’s driving this sort of crime. Thieves can sell it on so easy in those shops that are everywhere now. Terrible isn’t it?”

pickarooney

VERSION 7

The Trip of a Lifetime

Mary had always hated road trips. Without fail, every year, something would go horribly wrong. This was exacerbated by the fact that she would always get sick en route to their destination. Motion-sickness tablets, hypnotic tapes, she even considered going to a voodoo doctor once. Nothing ever worked.

The whole experience made her feel terrible, because it made her feel like all the problems during the trips were all her fault. Perhaps this was nature’s way of telling her to stay at home and forget about any grand plans she had for her future.

One time, while she was standing at the side of the road, heaving into an all-too-familiar plastic bag, her little brother, Josh, was sitting on a gate. He lost his balance and fell backwards into the field, landing on his head and knocking himself out. He woke up two hours later in hospital, and although her parents never blamed her, she felt like it was all her fault. If she wasn’t such a bad traveller, Mike wouldn’t have been sitting on the gate, and they wouldn’t all be sitting in hospital right now.

Accidents like this were just part of the problem with road trips. Let’s not forget the excruciatingly long silences while driving for miles, punctuated by sporadic games of I Spy. Surely, Mary thought, there could not be a worse game in existence. No matter what road you’re on, you always see the same things: sky, road, car, house, the list goes on. Even when something new does appear, it’s obvious that it’s going to be the next clue, so the novelty of seeing it disappears rapidly. Unfortunately for Mary, something beginning with ‘V’ was a regular sight on her car journeys.

This year, the family had decided to visit Tramore for the weekend. Why they couldn’t pick a closer beach, Mary didn’t know, but she knew she would enjoy it when she got there so she tried to keep her hopes up. Perhaps today would be different, she though. Maybe today, everything will go alright. What a foolishly hopeful thing to think. After all the packing was done, and with a plastic bag within reach, they pulled out of the driveway, and…

Mary wasn’t even sure what happened next. All she remembered was seeing a truck coming up the road, and hearing a loud crash. And now she was here. Somewhere else.

Mary couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She was surrounded by a bright light, coming from the air itself. How cliché, she thought, but only for a moment as a wave of calmness came over her. Ahead of her, just about to walk into the light, she could see her family, waiting for her: Josh doing a silly dance, while Mum and Dad stood smiling, holding hands. When she reached them, they all walked into the light together. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t even feeling sick. In fact, the further they walked, the happier she felt. Then she saw someone in the distance; someone she instantly recognised; someone beginning with ‘G’.

pickarooney

VERSION 7

Something beginning with G. Guilty. Plenty in here. Though I don’t know if he is. Eyespy, game of innocence.
“Guilty.”
“Innocent, try again.”
Nothing here. G…G…Guard!
“Guard”
“Good guess”
Stupid game, there’s nothing here, looking for evidence where none. Why am I here then? Evidence where none. Look again, all will become muddy. G is for… when I was a child G was for Giraffe, perhaps I’ll see one in twenty years and think of this.
“Well? Is it guard?”
“Nope”
Teasing me. G for goose, gander, what’s good for the gander is good for nothing, nothing is good, nothing is G…Gooaaauuu…Guest...
“Guest?”
“Haha, who’s the guest?”
True. Bed and Breakfast. Double room, Twenty year stay. Dinner too. G…G check my body, gums! Chewing gum in my hair, ketchup to get it out, never get it out, never get out, stuck in hair forever…
“Gums?”
“Good Guess.”
Good guess. Good guess. This is pathetic, two G’s though, pity can’t see them. If I could see good? Shape of a lamb. Delicious, so hungry in here. So hungry I could eat a lamb. G…body…gall bladder, he can’t see it, gullet, same, glasses!
“Glasses?”
“You wear glasses?”
Oh yeah not in here. Could stab someone with them, need to see them to stab them. Expensive too, lightweight. Demand a refund. Accommodation not up to standard and my glasses have gone missing. Give up, I give up…
“I give up.”
“You give up? Too easy.”
“What was it?”
“Giraffe.”
“Giraffe!?! So where is this giraffe then?”
“Use your imagination!”
Have to when playing eyespy in prison. Cheating. Guilty but a forgivable crime.

pickarooney

VERSION 7

'I spy with my little eye something beginning with G', Emily trilled annoyingly from the back seat of the mini bus as they moved inexorably closer to the Macra na Feirme annual convention. The bus was full of Dublin women off down on a farmer hunt to the Kilkenny headquarters where they'd been promised single farmers galore desperate for a wife.

'Jesus Christ that girl will give me heartburn.' Moira hissed at her flatmate, Jenny, who'd wrangled a free ride for them both on the trip. Then looking meaningfully at Emilys spacious mouth, shouted back. 'Gums!'

'Gorgeous guys!' Jenny ignored Moira and entered into the spirit of the game. She wasn't going to let her pessimistic friend put a dampener on the outing since she was absolutely certain that Macra na Feirme gigs were where the real men were at. She'd seen it on that reality show on the telly after all. And the newspaper was paying for both of them to go on the weekend, as long as they did a few of the courses, took a few photos and reported back, what was not to like?

'Gorgeous guys?! Unless you're counting the bus driver there, I think maybe you need your eyes examining. And he's 60 if he's a day. And so very not gorgeous.' Moira spelled it out lest there be any doubt. 'Geeks!' She shouted at Emily with a mean smirk.

'It's GARDA, actually.' Emily said pointedly, looking out the window as the bus slowed down at a checkpoint.

'Mmmm, guards, I love guards, so strong and silent and sexy in their serge uniform.' Clearly Jenny had had one too many beers at their last stop,it always made her prone to alliteration, Moira thought as she peered at her dolefully.

'Oh cheer up Moira, even if the convention is a bust- at least it's a weekend in a nice hotel with- hopefully- a few good meals. Better than the swill we normally get served up in the canteen. Hey, what do you say we try to get the guards to pose for a photo with us?'

'No way, they're on duty, they won't do it.' She looked at Jenny digging out the miserable digital camera they'd been entrusted with for the weekend.

'Maybe not for you, since you've forgotten how to flirt it's been so long...but I think I'm in with a chance.' Jenny flounced up the aisle of the bus in her yellow dungarees, bought specially as she thought it would attract a farmer, and smiled out the door as the bus came to a halt.

Moira glumly followed, more to keep her friend out of trouble then born of any hope. Jenny was right though, she had a natural charm and a flirty nature that attracted blokes like a hormonal woman to chocolate. Moira hadn't had a date in ages, months, okay feck it, it had been over two years. And the longer it went on the worse her luck was. It was probably pheromones or something, she thought, basic chemistry. The more sex you got, the more you got offered. And if you hadn't had any in ages...she followed Jenny who was now flirting determinedly with a cute black haired guard and showing him her camera. He looked far too interested for his own good. His fellow guard, a tall redhead, was examining the insurance and other discs on the windscreen while flashing dirty looks at the pair.

'We're off to the Macra convention in Kilkenny, any chance of a few pics with you two for The Globe?' Moira trotted the party line, deadpan, to the suspicious looking Garda who had finished looking at the discs and was watching the traffic build up behind the minibus.

'No chance.' He said dourly. Strangely his gloom had a cheering affect on Moira. 'Don't suppose you're a part time or weekend farmer or anything?' She smiled brightly at him.

Just then Jenny squealed and ran over to Moira-'Joe's coming to the convention later after his shift! No luck on the photos though.' She smiled back at her latest conquest.They're based in Kilkenny Garda station anyway so he's going to come along and he's going to bring a few single friends.'

'How 'bout you Garda, fancy coming to the Macra hop later?' Moira smirked at the cranky one.

'You're holding up traffic there.' He pointed out, crossly, and motioned them back on the bus.

'Gotta love the strong silent type', Moira whispered in his direction as she climbed back on pulling Jenny with her. She smiled back over her shoulder at the confused looking Garda. Almost reluctantly, it seemed, he pulled his hat off and a corner of his mouth lifted as he watched her leering at him through the window.

'What's gotten into you- I haven't seen you so flirty in ages?' Jenny giggled as Moira blew air kisses at the guard as the bus moved away.

'God knows', Moira laughed,' I think it's 'cause he was so bloody cranky- he reminded me of myself on a good day.'

She sat back and for the first time started to look forward to the weekend. She might have a game of eye spy the Garda this weekend...

pickarooney

VERSION 7

The monotonous hiss of the windscreen wipers drew attention to the silence filling the car. I flipped down the sun visor to try and shield my eyes from the flat winter sun. A quick glance at the driver showed me that he didn’t seem to notice the unnatural quiet. Perhaps he just didn’t care. In the mirror my face was pale and pinched tight and I could see the headache pounding behind my eyes. I’d definitely had better days. A small movement in the back seat drew my eye and for a moment felt the panic that I’d held at bay for the last few days threaten to overwhelm me. I should have said something really, anything, but they both looked so small, so defeated. I closed my eyes.

‘Yellow reg, no returns!’ The thump on my arm earned Michael a quick glare as I whipped my head around to confirm it as a fair hit.
‘Blue Corrolla, you missed it.’ He practically sung his victory. I slumped in my seat, my eyes scanning the cars around us. He’d gotten me twice now. I hated stupid Michael and I hated stupid car journeys to granny’s house. Why did she have to live so far away? And she was always mean to me. She liked boys better. Michael got to run around and play with the stuff in the shed but I had to stay inside and hold her wool for her while she knitted a stupid scarf or a stupid jumper. I’d had to wear a dress as well because granny didn’t like little girls in jeans. Daddy said it was silly but Mammy said it wouldn’t hurt me to wear a dress for once. She was wrong though. This dress was scratchy. Daddy laughed when I said that but Mammy had looked annoyed so he told me to wear it and we could play when we got home.
‘Yellow reg-‘
‘Stop it! Stop hitting me’ I roared and lunged towards Michael, the seatbelt biting into my neck, yanking me back.
‘Aoife! Stop screaming, we’re not deaf and Michael, stop hitting your sister.’ Mammy sounded angry as I sat back and stared out the window. It wasn’t fair.
‘I’m sorry Aoife.’ I ignored him. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt.’ I felt a knot in my tummy as I finally looked across at my big brother. He looked sorry and I knew he didn’t punch me that hard.
‘You didn’t hurt me really.’ I smiled a pathetic little smile. ‘I just hate going to see Granny. It’s boring there.’ I whispered, keeping one eye on Mammy to make sure she couldn’t hear me.
‘Look Aoife, we can play when we get home. I’ll even give you a go on my BMX.’ A small thrill went through me. His BMX was brilliant and he didn’t always let me go on it. I sat back, hugging the promise to myself as I watching the trees flash by.


The screech of the wipers as they dragged across the windsceen jerked me free of the memory. I opened my eyes. It had stopped raining. I shivered a little. I could still practically hear Michael's voice. I looked into the mirror at my brothers two kids. Jesus they were younger than we’d been. How was I going to do this? And how could he really be gone? I swallowed hard and cleared my throat.
‘Jess, Kevin…how about a game of I spy?’

pickarooney

VERSION 7

The blue 'G' rotated in the centre of the screen. Henry had never seen this feature, but Google were known innovators. He assumed he'd just missed the announcement.

After a moment, the page changed and his mouth opened.

"Sarah, come look at this!" he shouted downstairs.

"Check it out," he said when his wife walked into the bedroom "'Eye Spy.'"

He reloaded the window, returning to the homepage. The Google logo re-appeared, above a small text field and a button which read: "Find!"

His heart thumping, he typed the words again.

C-a-r, space, K-e-y-s

He clicked the button. The page changed to the spinning 'G', then flashed, and a list appeared.

"Car Keys.

Probable locations:

Reilly family bathroom counter (28%)

Reilly family master bedroom locker (84%)

Reilly family kitchen table (90%)"

Her eyes widened.

"It's based on search habits, user profiles," he said. "It can find anything."

His wife leaned forward to the keyboard and typed:

K-e-v-i-n

Their son. She clicked the "Find!" button and after a moment, the screen changed.

"Kevin Reilly.

Probable locations:

Fun Time Bowling Alley (18%)

Reilly family small bedroom (23%)

St. Oliver's National School (81%)"

She laughed and shook her head. "It's almost scary," she said. "Come on, your dinner is ready."

The days passed, and as they did, Henry became engrossed in "Eye Spy." One night, he showed it to his best friend, Frank Jameson. The pair spent hours finding everything they could imagine; wallets, phones, remote controls.

Soon though, the novelty faded - for Frank, if not for Henry. He was left alone, thinking, typing and clicking, asking Google to find things sat right beside him.

Two months had now passed since that first time, when he had clicked on the mysterious icon on his Google homepage. The night was dark and he sat - alone as usual - at the computer, when suddenly his fingers stopped moving.

He pulled away from the keyboard and looked around the shadowy office. He listened, but heard only silence. He wondered if he was alone in the house, and tried to remember the last time he had spoken to his family. He could not.

Bathed in that suddenly discomforting blue glow, he leaned forward once more and began to type.

S-a-r-a-h

He clicked the button and waited. The spinning 'G' seemed to take much longer than usual, and he clicked three or four times again before the page changed.

The results appeared and for the longest time, he sat and stared at them in silence.

"Sarah Reilly.

Probable locations:

Universal Cineplex (19%)

General Pao's Chinese Restaurant (22%)

Jameson family master bedroom (89%)"

Frank.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but when he looked to the window again, the first cracks of light had begun to appear on the horizon. He turned from the window back to the screen, and reloaded it one last time.

As tears welled up behind his eyes, he leaned forward and began to type.

R-O-P-E

He clicked the button, and waited.

pickarooney

VERSION 7

Jane picked Louis up from the crèche at the usual time and strapped him into the car seat. The forty minute journey home was one she knew well, but that didn’t make it pass any more quickly with a bored and grumpy child in the back seat. Louis was four; he was bright and had been speaking in full sentences since he was fourteen months old, it only seemed to accelerate form there. As a result he was a difficult child to keep amused.

He hated his car seat. After a day of exasperating the crèche staff, he would sit in the back seat kicking and wailing all the way home. Jane worried that she wouldn’t be able to keep her mind on the driving.

“I spy,” her mother suggested over coffee one Friday. “Do you remember? That’s what we used to play when we’d drive to Dublin to visit your grandmother. You never got bored of it; it was a godsend.” Jane thought it was worth a try at least.

Louis writhed as she strapped him in, slipping his arm out from the straps as she tried to fasten them. “No Mama! Go away!” Jane knew better than to engage him in conversation so she stayed silent and finally fixed the straps and pulled them tight. She sat into the driver’s seat and turned around to the whingeing little boy.

“Now, Louis, we’re going to play a game, I think you’ll like it,” she said. The boy quietened and sniffed his forced tears back. Seeing that she had his attention she continued. “It’s called ‘I spy’. I say that I spy something beginning with a letter and you have to tell me what it is.”

Louis turned his head quizzically.

“So for example. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘C’.”

“A car!” said Louis, thrilled.

“That’s right! Good guess!” said Jane. “OK, so I’m going to drive now so that I can ‘spy’ lots of things for our game, alright?” Louis nodded excitedly and Jane silently thanked her mother.

The game was a success: something beginning with ‘L’ was ‘Louis’, something beginning with ‘M’ was ‘Mama, and something beginning with ‘T’ was ‘Truck’. Louis got them all within a few guesses and Jane felt so proud of her little boy.

Jane glanced around for inspiration and spotted the little gorilla ornament that was hanging down from the rear-view mirror, rocking along with the movement of the car. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘G’,” she said.

Louis paused to think. “Goldfish,” he responded confidently.

“What? Where do you see a goldfish, Louis?”

“Outside the window, Mama.”

“No, that’s not the answer, guess again,” she said with a smile in her voice.

“It is the answer, Mama. Goldfish begins with G and there’s a goldfish outside my window.”

“Louis, are you being silly?” said Jane catching a glance in her rear-view mirror at the boy who was tapping on the window with a finger. “Here’s a clue,” she said and pointed to the gorilla.

“No, Mama! It’s a goldfish!” he screeched and began to cry. He began to kick furiously, shaking the car seat violently. This had gone beyond his usual tantrum level – the child was shaking with rage.

“Just look, Mama! The goldfish is right there!”

Jane panicked and turned around quickly to see Louis’ face contorted with rage and then drop into a wide-eyed stare out of the front window of the car. Jane blinked and turned back to the road just in time to see that she was no longer on the road at all and about to hit crash barriers.

She realised then where on her journey she was – she was at the docks. She lost track of where the car was in space and the next thing she saw was water impact with the windscreen. She let go of the breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding and looked at her knuckles, white, on the steering wheel. The car began to sink more quickly than she would have thought.

Then she remembered Louis and snapped her head around, relieved to find him sitting in his seat looking out of the window and chatting. Her heart pounded and the water rose up the windows.

“See, Mama, I told you so,” said Louis jabbing a finger at the windowpane, “a goldfish!” The child clapped as a fish swam past the window.

pickarooney

VERSION 7

I'm just voting for one - version 6. By far the most innovative story of the lot, the almost-credible sci-fi twist on the theme worked really well I felt. Well structured, funny and dark, all in under an hour. I particularly liked how it was obvious where he would find his wife but then the reader is thrown again by the last lines.

Honourable mention to number 3 for the original style and the ending.

Version one was let down a little by the ending but still manages to be a complete, self-contained story and deserves respect for that.

Version two (and all the others) was too literal an interpretation I felt. I liked the "something beginning with V" when I got it after a few seconds.

Version four was a little incoherent and again too literal. Given the length it reads like it was all bashed out in one go.

Version five - again, kids in a car.

Version seven - ditto, albeit with a clairvoyant twist that, ehm, you could see coming a mile off

mary, mary, moira, michael

that's funny

i'm voting for 7... i didnt see it coming :pac:

pickarooney

VERSION 7

And Mike, a.k.a. Josh

Das Kitty

VERSION 6

I decided to ignore the similarities in settings - with such a short timeframe it was bound to happen. I voted for number 5 and this is why.

The very fist paragraph is extremely evocative. You get that there is sadness without anything being stated explicitly.

The shift to the narrator's child-voice is very well done and very clear that it is two distinct versions of the same person.

Then the emotional hit in the end really got me. I really thought it was beautiful, and that it was produced in such a short timeframe only adds to it.

--Kaiser--

VERSION 7

First of all, kudos to all who participated, I spent about 20 minutes thinking of words beginning with G, then realised 5 minutes before the hour was up that my idea was too ambitious for the confines of the competition.

I voted for 6, interesting concept of all seeing technology, simply written (in a good way)

Version 1 - well written (especially the dialogue) but it ends rather abruptly, you don't really know how the protagonist feels about his crime

Version 2 - really cheesy ending, I'm an atheist so maybe that's why this didn't appeal to me

Version 3 - good stream of conciousness writing, but went nowhere (I thought it obvious they were in prision)

Version 4 - a ream of girly dialogue, didn't hold my interest at all

Version 5 - nice tugs at the heartstrings, unfortunately it was a similar concept to other stories

Version 7 - I found this story really implausible

Mr E

VERSION 7

I went for 5 and 6.

5 is just a nicely written, evocative story. Very well done.

6 was a fun story, which thought outside the box. I think I'd have got for a G-U-N instead of a R-O-P-E though.

Daemos

VERSION 4

I went for 3 because it was the most unique and tried best at conveying the thought process, and because I didn't see the twist at the end coming. I should like 6, being a sci-fi fan, but the ending was fairly obvious I thought so that took away from it for me

A shame so many, including myself, went for the road trip angle, but hey we were under pressure

Mr E

VERSION 7

My timed-out short story was about a ghost....
At least it would have stood out (although most likely for bad writing than originality!)

Wantobe

VERSION 7

Some great entries again- yes, some were similar but you'd have to expect that with the concept given.

I thought 6 was a great idea, original and amusing. And actually well written for the time frame involved. Damn you, author of number 6!:p

Although the idea of 5 was not original I thought the writing was very well done- actually amazingly so for the time frame. Damn you, author of number 5!:o

Er, so I voted for those two.


( A hex on them!)

Antilles

VERSION 4

I voted for 3 because I felt it was the most unique. I liked the ending the the stream of consciousness style to it.

PurpleBee

VERSION 7

I voted for 6. I thought the idea was great, I don't usually like sci-fiish stuff unless its driven by a really good thought provoking idea. It's a rough diamond of a story.

My second favourite was 5. I thought that it was well structured and the switch in narrative style from adult to child was convincing.

Amazing what people can come up with under pressure!

Ectoplasm

VERSION 2

I voted for No. 1. I really enjoyed the contrast of the 'good' relative, who will visit out of duty and then turn around and rob this older woman in the same visit. I felt that the character was nicely complex and although the ending was a little abrupt, I think it worked.

Six of One

VERSION 6

I voted for 5 because it was well written, well structured and lovely to read. The kid's point of view was humorous and believable and the adult's shock and horror was conveyed well.

My thoughts on the others:
V1 was a good idea, a different slant on the theme.
V2 People dying in car crashes has been done a bit too often I feel.
V3 The last sentence about prison felt like it was a reveal, but as it was so clear throughout the story that they were in prison ('Guilty. Plenty in here.'/Guards/20 year stay/ Stabbing someone with glasses etc.) I didn't really get it.
V4 Probably some interesting characters there but the story lacked some punch.
V6 Very good, a lovely tidy story and original. Was my second favourite but I wanted the vote to go to 5.
V7 I was hoping it wouldn't be another car crash but unfortunately it was, damn that kid!

Antilles

VERSION 4

I'll just add that in #7, if there was a goldfish swimming through the air behind the car as it drove down the road, I totally would have voted for that story.

PurpleBee

VERSION 7

Antilles wrote: »

I'll just add that in #7, if there was a goldfish swimming through the air behind the car as it drove down the road, I totally would have voted for that story.

I assumed it was a plastic fish sign outside an aquarium, that or someone had slipped something inside the kid's ready brek...

Leafonthewind

VERSION 7

I’m very impressed with all the entries. I wasn’t expecting such great pieces of writing all around with the one-hour time limit. Versions 3, 5 and 6 stood out for me and I finally decided on version 6 because of the original concept and everything that's already been said about it. And I agree with Mr E about the G-U-N.

Version 3 – I didn’t see the prison setting as a twist at all. I thought it was obvious from the start that the setting was a prison cell and that it was intentional on the author’s part. What I liked about the story was the main character’s thought process. He’s clearly off his rocker and it made me wonder what he did to wind up in prison.

Version 5 – A touching story and beautiful writing – flat winter sun, hugging the promise to myself – and very true-to-life with the overuse of the word stupid by the child character.

Version 1 – A different take on the theme and well-written, but the ending was a little flat.

Version 2 – Another well-written story, and I thought something beginning with ‘V’ was brilliant, but I just couldn’t get past the cheesy ending.

Version 4 – I liked the humour in this piece: the farmer hunt, Emily’s spacious mouth, the attraction of hormonal women to chocolate... It made me laugh.

Version 7 – A good story and, honestly, I didn’t see the end coming, but by the time I got to it I was all “carred” out I’m afraid.

hcass

VERSION 6

Fair play to everyone that came up with a story within the time limit. I couldn't do it, I wrote something but couldn't finish it properly so didn't send it in, so yeah well done. I find it so difficult to be creative under such pressure, don't know how you all did it!

1 - I didn't really get it? He went on about what a bollox his bro was and then robbed his own aunt? I dunno... It just seemed a bit rushed but I suppose that's to be expected in under an hour.

2 - I'm not a big fan of death at the end of stories, it seems like a bit of a cop out to me, sorry.

3 - The prison cell I wasn't mad on - it wasn't really a story to me, just a bit of dialogue.

4- So many adverbs, way too many. It really grated on me, sorry! Apart from that I kind of like the "chick lit" feel to it and think it could be good with a bit more work and less adverbs. Show don't tell.

5 - I like this even though I didn't really understand why she would find it so difficult to tell the kids. Were they his kids? I wasn't sure, but apart from the confusion I thought it was well written and liked the style. SO I voted for this one as champ.

6 - I really liked this even though I HATE sci-fi, it was a great idea, a different take on the I spy thing. But I think you let yourself down with the ending. Hanging himself - suicide, another cliche in short story writing. I think you should have just left it at him finding his wife in bed with someone else. Maybe have alluded to problems within the marriage more? I dunno...

7 - I wasn't mad on this one. It just seemed very rushed and a bit silly. I didn't see how that could actually happen but again within one hour, you did better than I did anyway!

Sorry if my remarks are too harsh, I was too much of a chicken to give my half finished piece in so I celebrate all of your bravery and hard work!

seven stars

VERSION 7

Well done to everyone. I'm voting for 5 and 6.

1: I liked this. Well written, but something about the twist / revelation didn't seem right. Not enough drama in it maybe? I'm not sure. Still, much better than I'd have managed in under an hour.

2: I thought this was a good effort. A decent attempt to turn the child's I Spy game into something more interesting.

3: I admit that I wasn't really following this one to begin with, so it didn't hold my attention. I see afterwards what it was attempting, and it's a good enough idea.

4: A well written and fully formed story with good dialogue, but I'd agree about the adverbs (they're a bit distracting at times). The thing that let it down for me was the story itself, which didn't really appeal.

5: Great effort, and very well written. Gets a vote from me.

6: This was excellent. It was like a flash fiction version of Black Mirror. Best of the bunch in my opinion.

7: Another very good effort, especially given the time restrictions. I think this submission has been an unfortunate victim of the random order generator.

echo beach

VERSION 7

I voted for 5 + 6.

6 was my favourite, original and oddly believable. I found the ending rounded the story off nicely, still dependant on the computer.

5 gets a vote for managing the tricky switch from present to past and back to present in such a short piece.

As I have an entry I'll not comment on the others until after voting closes.

pickarooney

VERSION 7

Just in case everybody forgot about this (I admit I mixed up the end date myself!), congratulations to our winner, author of version 6, Antilles

PurpleBee

VERSION 7

Fine effort Antilles! Well done.

It is a consolation in defeat to know that I had a hand in its consummation.

Mine was three. It was more of an experiment than a story, I was interested in conveying the thought process of a game of eye spy. The last line of mine is shockingly bad, it makes the whole thing seem like I'm delivering a well hidden twister ending which I wasn't, I was just trying to end it in time.

Thanks to all who voted for me and those who offered criticism.

Daemos

VERSION 4

pickarooney wrote: »

And Mike, a.k.a. Josh

That was mine. I called him Mike first, then decided I couldn't have two siblings beginning with M so changed it to Josh. Obviously missed one while editing

Two people commenting on the 'something beginning with V' joke, though? Maybe I should stick to one-liners

Das Kitty

VERSION 6

Congrats Antilles!

Mine was seven, thanks to those who voted and offered criticism!

Ectoplasm

VERSION 2

Yep, well done Antilles!

Mine was 5. I spent about 15 mins dithering as I knew the 'kids in car' was not really that original but nothing better appeared and that clock was really ticking. Thanks so much to all who provided feedback.

Das Kitty

VERSION 6

EMF2010 wrote: »

Yep, well done Antilles!

Mine was 5. I spent about 15 mins dithering as I knew the 'kids in car' was not really that original but nothing better appeared and that clock was really ticking. Thanks so much to all who provided feedback.

I know I said it before, but yours was my absolute favourite. It totally got to me.

Antilles

VERSION 4

Thanks everyone for the votes and the feedback!

If anyone's interested, I spent the first ten minutes of my hour brainstorming and ended up with an A4 page filled with every "G" word I could think of. As soon as I wrote down "Google", I saw the link to "I Spy" so that's where the idea came from.

With regards the end, I know it's the weakest part - as somebody said above, I was just looking for a reasonable ending so I could start writing the thing

As a matter of fact I did consider "G-U-N" instead of "R-O-P-E", but I was worried that a) it would strain credibility for the character to have a gun if I hadn't already mentioned it, and b) it might imply he was going to kill the wife and his friend, rather than himself.

echo beach

VERSION 7

Well done Antilles. Anybody who hasn't done it has no idea how difficult it is. Stephen Hawkings couldn't explain what happens to time during that hour.

I wrote no 1 and thanks to all who took the time to read it and make comments. It took me over 15 minutes to get started. I thought and thought about a road trip and could say I dismissed it as unoriginal but the truth is I couldn't come up with a single idea so I admire those who did get workable plots from it.
When I finally decided on G for Gold it took me ages to get to the gold. By then I was struggling badly, only stubborness stopped me from giving up and I completely ran out of time at the end, as is fairly obvious.

It was a tough challange, especially for slow typists, but I enjoyed it. Thanks again to Pickarooney and helpers who made it possible.

Blush_01

Sorry, totally missed this!

To whoever wrote 4, I had to laugh - "Macra na Feirme Annual Convention" - the Rally? Which club are you in?