Calling All Creative Writers: We Need You!

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As you may or may not have noticed it is no longer February however as we begin to wrap up this term you should know that our Flash Fiction February challenge is still on-going. We plan to compile an anthology of all the stories following the end of exams however in the meantime if you could please find some time to do the odd submission we would be eternally grateful.

Here are a list of the dates/prompts which have not been written on at all and are in dire need of some creative flourishes

20- connect, artificial, honour
21- theory, oranges, (picture of sheet music)
22- courtesan, horoscope, (painting of waterfall women)
23- ice-cream, banned, runaway
25- 1945, exhibit, (picture of Cleopatra)
26- lion, gravity, look
29- liminal, journey, (sound clip: Aphex Twin- Avril 14th)

 

And these are the dates/prompts which have only received one submission so far and could use a bit of tlc:

12- havoc, moonlight, summon
14- fortress, message, (picture of St. Valentine)                                                                               16- carrion, laces, “I am—yet what I am none cares or knows…”- John Clare
17- follow, rain, “Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster… for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.”- Friedrich Nietzsche
18 –prisoner, arm, (painting of women on castle wall)
19- return, satisfaction, (signpost “La Belle Place)
24- erase, counter, (picture of hourglass and roses)
27- prepare, nowhere, (picture “It’s all lies darling”)
28- chrome, rare, (picture of map and compass)

You will have to look at the blog page to view the pictures/ sound clips properly. (which can be found here: (https://gucreativewriting.wordpress.com/…/flash-fiction-fe…/)

Flash fiction submissions can be sent to us via the box on the blog or sent to gucreativewritingsociety@gmail.com.

Thank you very much. Happy writing! :D

An Intermission

“I can’t tell, the map isn’t very clear.”

“Well, whose fault is that?”

“Yours, obviously.”

“…How’d you figure that?”

“Maybe if you’d actually bought a SatNav instead of getting a fucking stupid map thing, we’d be there already.”

“Don’t swing this on me! You’re the one who got excited about rare papers and maps and then got so excited about this stupid non-electronic adventure!”

“That was YOU!”

“…”

“Yeah. Hah. You suck.”

“What are you, ten? ‘You suck’, who even says that?”

“Well, you do suck.”

“Yeah, real mature…”

“…”

“…you suck most…”

“HAH!”

“Your mocking laugh is not helping me work out where we’re going, please stop it.”

“Hah, like you’re having any luck anyway. We’re gonna be stuck out here forever.”

“No, we’ll find the car. All that stupid shiny chrome is like a fucking beacon. We’ll see it from miles away.”

“I can’t BELIEVE you would insult my baby like that. How dare you.”

“Ah, piss off.”

“How rude.”

“Eh. I still love you.”

“Love you too.”

“…”

“We’re in the middle of a forest! Is this really the time?!”

“…quick, hurry up and find a way out! I love you…”

“You’re ridiculous.”

By:  Maura Kenny

(prompts: chrome, rare, picture of map and compass)

Statue’s Tear

The statues were drooping, listless, sad. The once pristine marble was dirty and grimy, and some of the older statues had features that were unrecognisable, worn away by time. The statues were chipped and broken, some missing ornamentation and some missing limbs and even heads. And the life flow had stopped. Some had hardened, no longer living, dead marble now, the spark of life long faded. Some were sleeping, losing their willpower more and more every lonely abandoned day.

But the spark hadn’t died in them all. Some were still waiting, waiting for people to come and admire them, to be filled with wonder and awe at what they saw, to be inspired and fulfilled and to breathe happiness and light back into the lives of the marble before them.

Vanity was a statue’s main trait, after all, and they ached to be looked at and to be worshipped like they used to, when people flocked from miles around to look at their beauty and the craftsmanship.

But now they were alone, forgotten, with green plants and leaves growing over them and discolouring them and their pride was fading as their beauty diminished and marble cannot cry but if it could… if it could, there would be a river to wash the statues clean.

By: Maura Kenny

(prompts used: marble, listless, Debussy- Rêverie)