Author Topic: Anyone up for a short story contest?  (Read 1817 times)

Anyone up for a short story contest?
« on: February 09, 2004, 11:17:05 PM »
I'm feeling a need to release some creative juices, and I was wondering if anyone would be up for a short story writing contest.  Any subject, 1000 word limit.  Best story can be decided by a poll at the end of the month.

Any takers?


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Anyone up for a short story contest?
« Reply #1 on: February 10, 2004, 02:10:00 AM »
Maybe.  No promises.

Cambrian Times

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Anyone up for a short story contest?
« Reply #2 on: February 10, 2004, 03:21:11 AM »
Here's my effort.


I've been in the autopsy business for just over 5 years now.  Nothing really shocks me any more. I've seen heart attacks, suicides, burnings everything. Even the odd drowning now and again. Well you expect that in a river town. But I can remember the first time I ever assisted on an autopsy on a, as we term them, "floaters".
                 I was in my first year as a mortuary scientist and I was performing the autopsy under the supervision of my forensic tutor Professor Tomlinson  It was a young woman, couldn't have been more than 25.  She'd been pulled out of the Thames overnight. She had bruises on her thighs which indicated to me sexual assault, so I took the inniative to investigate the vulva and the vaginal channel for  signs of violation. Now sometimes when a body comes out of a river, you find things in the orifaces, dead leaves or water insect larvae usually. As I was inspecting the cadaver's genitals with a speculum, I spotted something up by the cervix. Using a foreceps I carefully removed the foreign body. At first when I saw it, in the harsh striplight of the mortuary I thought it was a freshwater prawn. Then my eyesight cleared and I realised that what i was examining was no prawn.

            The poor girl. I don't think even she knew.

           Now I usually have a strong stomach, you have to in this business, but when it dawned on me what i had fished out, I screamed, dropped it and ran from the mortuary. They found me in the toilets, clutching the toilet bowl and just shaking.
                  The next day I had to go to a meeting with Tomlinson. I thought I was going to be kicked out, or at best recycled, but thankfully, my good grades and excellent attendance record kept me afloat (bad pun I know, but what can you do). He also explained that it was part of the learning curve to freak out once in a while, just not to let it happen too often.
                   Well I'm still in the death business as you can see, and I've seen worse things over the years with little or no effect on my mental state. The only downside to my experience is that when I dine out, I tend to avoid the seafood.


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Anyone up for a short story contest?
« Reply #3 on: February 10, 2004, 04:59:44 AM »
Oooh, now there's lovely for you!

Of course, I'm going to be unable to sleep now for wondering what it actually was.  Was it an embryo?   Or am I being impossibly dense?  Aaaagh, must know must know must know...!

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Anyone up for a short story contest?
« Reply #4 on: February 10, 2004, 12:11:38 PM »

I finished the last drops of my drink, put in my coat, zipped it up and headed out into the cold. As I opened the door, I felt the first snowflakes hit my skin. They were cold at first, and then gradually warmed as they melted. The snowflakes were thick, and my garden was covered. I could no longer see the grass, for the snow had settled, and from the forecast, it looked like there would be more to come.

There was a silence. Not an eerie or hostile silence, but a blissful one. All I could hear was the occasional patter of the snow landing. Everything else was a perfect silence. I walked along my back garden path into the side passage, through the frosted glass on the door in front of me I could see the outside world; a carpet of brilliant white, untouched snow. I ventured out.

My shoes made a crunch into the snow, which seemed at least 2 inches thick. The driveway was covered so thickly, I could no longer see the dip where the gutter was, so I stayed to the right, and walked up the drive. As I passed the wall of my house, I could see everything. The streetlights still glimmered orange through the thick flakes of snow, constantly falling. The roads and the trees were laden. I continued walking up my drive, and then along the street. The silence continued. I paused, and looked around. This was perfect, I thought, and decided to capture this moment in my mind forever.

I suddenely jolted up. I was awake. It had been a dream. I desperately scrambled to the window in a futile attempt to realise my dream, but to no avail. It was a grey day, and the rain scythed down. I saw people walking up and down the street, and the cars cut through the wet surface of the road. It took me the whole day to come to terms with what had happened.

Dear Prudence
« Reply #5 on: February 10, 2004, 08:56:07 PM »
'Prudence, my dear, how are you?', asked I.
'Arghhhhhhhhh, fuck off you fucking cunt, FUCK YOU!'
'Oh dear, still the same I see,...oh we go...'

Naked as she was, strapped to the table, legs splayed, showing off that slimy cunt like a goose with a new hat, babbling and flaying, no good.

Sitting in the darkness, sitting quite still, I smiled, and toyed with ideas, she didn't look well, poor Prudence, poor girl, had I fed her? Can't remember, no, think not....oh wait, there we go, on the floor, the crisps. Walkers, yes, no, McCoys, beef flavoured. I'd propped them between her ample breasts the previous night, or maybe a few days ago, hard to tell.

Holding the pen knife behind my back, approached did I, and peered.
Dressed in black, head to toe, and beyond, my pants balck also, peered I did, smiling under the dark hood.

'Hello Prudence'.
Then she cried again, so predictable, so flabby, so enticing.

'Now Prudence, I want you to be a good girl as I cut off your left breast, can you do that?'

'ARGHHHHHHHHH,...ahhhh, no,'sob'...please, please don't....please..'
'Why not?'
More tears from her, deep and purging.
'You don't really expect to live through this do you?'


And then, something happened to me, staring at the mess on the table I thought, 'Maybe this is wrong?',....hmmmmm, is it? She had it coming, she knew it, I knew it....hmmmm,,

Scream she did, as I rammed the small knife into her vagina, just the once, once was always enough, I crouched down at the foot of the table to watch the deep coloured blood pour from her useless cervix. Her screaming and manic flaying became quite annoying, I pulled the knife out, slide it under my hood, and licked the goo,....erghhhhh, not as nice as I'd hoped, it tasted 'bad', 'off' like spoilt meat.

And then, a voice...

'How's she doing John?'
I turned to see Mr Wilkinson, silhoutted from the beautiful sunshine from beyond.

The eyes of Prudence, slowly dying, saw him, and then I saw the realisation, from within her, turning her head, she says...


Mr Wilkinson, laughed, then walked forward to reveal his nakedness.
'Hahhahah, oh dear Prudence, we are a mess, aren't we...'
Prudence turned her head to me, I smiled, but she couldn't see it...

'Well John, let's get this over with..'

I began to strip, oh so slowly...