Category Archive: Short story competition

Collecting the prize

At the end of last month, Sherry Morris came to stay with us, together with her partner Phil. I suppose you could say she came to collect her prize as winner of the… Continue reading

The New Book a Break Anthology

Fancy a trip to Pluto? Or a fearful drive along a stretch of country road? Unless you prefer to go to church with a strange woman in green tights, her hair alive with… Continue reading

Fancy a story?

Many days since I posted – my apologies! The reason is, I’ve been busy with Various Things, so without further ado, a list, in no particular order: the new website: getting my mind… Continue reading

How much did we raise?

We’re already well into May, and I’ve done no summary of last month’s A to Z blogging challenge. Actually, the culprit is Smith, who took over the blog for the whole of April,… Continue reading

Z is for Zero

Well, guess what? I didn’t get to Provence after all. I must have got into the wrong bag or the wrong queue, but I ended up in Madagascar! The flight was very long… Continue reading

Y is for Ystwyth

That’s the river Ystwyth, which flows into the sea at Aberystwyth. It chose that spot because ‘aber’ means ‘mouth’ in Welsh, though not the sort you eat gizzards with. I’ve never been to… Continue reading

X is for Xavier

Apart from having a name that begins with X, Xavier isn’t an interesting person at all. But he does indirectly lead to Cat Tales, the anthology drawn from last year’s Book a Break… Continue reading

W is for Welfare

And so the A to Z approaches the end. I’ve brought you all the cool cats in Cat Tales, the anthology drawn from last year’s Book a Break short story competition. As I’m sure… Continue reading

V is for VIP

Specifically, the VIP wheelie bin store where meetings are held every Monday night, attended by the Stealthy Six: Felix, Tom, Missy, Cinnamon, Bamboo and Tiger. In The Postal Code Cats, Olivia Templeton’s story in… Continue reading

U is for Ugbor

Standing on tiptoes, her arms and jaw resting on the frame, Elizabeth Ikhide looked out of the living room window of her parents’ apartment. It was a warm and tranquil Nigerian Wednesday morning… Continue reading

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