Sarah, a small, relatively quiet girl with a mass of jaw length frizzy red hair, chewed on one of her finger nails. Evie always thought she was a bit of a baby. She still sucked her thumb, yet somehow managed to be one of the 'favourites' at school, with both teachers and fellow pupils.
Sitting next to her was Katie; a firm favourite with the boys and she loved the attention. She laughed in a cackle that wasn't put on for the holiday spirit; it set Evie's teeth on edge. She sat away from Chang, complaining to Evie as she was now allergic to cat hair; as well as grass, nickel and certain perfumes. Evie didn't really like Katie, she was clever and cocky, but better to have on side than not.
Evie caught sight of her self in the mirror as she re-entered the living room and stood to announce the beginning of the night's spooky festivities. Under her witch's hat, her blonde hair had recently been cut short to just above her shoulders. In hindsight it had been a mistake to cut her hair so short, it emphasised her chubby face and there seemed so much more of her body to notice now. Without the obvious physical changes her age afforded her, she carried an extra layer of insulation she would rather do without.
The names the kids at school threw around the playground occasionally reverberated around
her head all the time.
Her Mother said it was puppy fat and that everyone got it at some point. Looking around the room tonight, she seemed to be the only one here with it. So she had deliberately put on her baggiest star and moon patterned pyjamas to hide under; her blue eyes twinkled under her fair eyelashes as she made her announcement.
"As we approach the Witching Hour, let us ask the other side to show us proof of their existence!"
There were more giggles and a round of applause as Evie took her place before her awestruck audience at the table and the six girls knelt around it wondering what was going to happen next. Next to Evie, Gemma whispered, "Do they realise we'll be pretending?"
Evie shrugged her shoulders, "Nope! But when you push the glass, make it realistic, don't just be silly will you?" The two friends giggled conspiratorially and Evie directed all the girls to place one finger lightly on top of the glass that sat upside down in the centre of the table. Around the edge of the table were cards with each letter of the alphabet on them, the numbers zero to nine and the words 'yes' and 'no'. Katie nudged Sarah to make her jump and the other girls giggled.
"This is a load of crap!" declared Lori in a matter of fact tone, she took her finger off the glass and crossed her arms over her budding chest. The other girls looked at her, not knowing whether to agree or not, fingers poised. Evie raised her eyes to Lori's freckled face and grinned.
"Well then there's no reason not to take part then, eh?!"
Lori looked around at the other five girls and forced a smile that showed the gap in between her front teeth. She was quite an androgynous looking girl and had jumped ship from being one of the most picked on, to the one doing most of the name calling herself. Slowly, she placed her finger back on the glass and exhaled deeply.
Gemma was Evie's partner in crime. They had decided to give their school friends a fright, 'wipe the smiles off their faces Evie!' she'd said. Evie looked at her friend and saw just how appearances could be deceiving.
Gemma was tiny, only just five feet tall; she had wavy brown hair that fell down her back like a waterfall. Despite Evie thinking Gemma had a cute little face; she called her a dangerous dwarf because under the cute exterior, lay a devilish sense of humour and a black belt in karate who could kill you with a single touch.
Fiction - Faster Than the Speed of Silence By Leah Scarpati
The phone's ringing again - the second time today. Its shrill chime echoes around the house, reverberating through the hall and into my warm little cocoon of a living room. It makes me nervous. It's like a foreign body, stealthily making its way through the house, looking for me- preparing to bump me off, to throw something at me when I least expect it.
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - A is not only for Apple By Lin Whitehouse
Is this what it feels like to sit on death row, morbidly freefalling through the past? I keep averting my eyes from the clock face but the minute magnet holds me hostage.
Had I done enough to be reprieved?
Another hour swallows my resolve not to panic, in God's name how long does it take to open an envelope?
Perhaps the results aren't what we predicted.
Fiction - Everyone Loves The Big Girl By Leah Scarpati
The lights go back on and there are cheers, claps and wolf whistles as I
take my final bow. That plank of a DJ ruined the end of my performance
by cutting Shania off short instead of fading her out like I told him to.
Thankfully I don't think anyone noticed.
I'm sweating like a pack horse, but at least I've given it my all.
Large Lady Kiss-a-grams are getting a good reputation and I reckon
it's all down to me. Read more...
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The Unkindest Cut By Manuro
Phil's partner in hell-raising had convinced him that it would be a 'good idea' to spend all of his gig money on pork chops. They had met during the summer at an all-night Clown Skills and Raw Food workshop in Worksop, where the ability to see through walls and predict future events had proved, at the very least, useful.
Unable to control his bohemian life, Phil took solace
Fiction - Later. Still. By Christopher Skolik
Maybe human beings get through life by focusing their attention down to the smallest details, those soap opera comings and goings that make up the flickering magic lantern show of day to day existence, the little things that make life worth living, the details that stand between us and the chasm.
Fiction - The Hunch-Back (in the style of The Hitman by T.C. Boyle) By Katherine Horrex
By the age of nine the Hunch-Back is aware that he has no place. He questions the existence of everything he sees and it is not until he grows shady from first stubble and hard with distracting pubescent bulk that he gains any sense of purpose, or raison d'etre if you will, for he is half French.
It is his mother to which the French in him must be attributed,
Fiction - The Terminal Brothel By Christopher Skolik
Gales crashed onto the housing estate. Grey sky like fractured mountains.
In the passenger seat Dennison read through the paper, as Snaith drives. As some story or headline caught Snaith's attention he would ask Dennison to read it in full.
The council estate was a maze of similarity -a dizzying optical illusion where homes, roads, and people all
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Kundalini By Andrea Longstaff
She was homeless and walking the streets.
Her mind was unhinged but full of new found awareness. A realisation that she was now free in the true sense of the word.
Her life always did have a surreal texture to it but after a night of no sleep and helping the stranger who had dropped his pens.
He looked into her glazed eyes, "I hope you get a good nights sleep tonight"
Fiction - The Artist By The Silver Fox
Pencil in hand, he stands immobile. His eyes are locked onto the pristine expanse before him as though searching for some secret buried within the paper itself; an image that his pencil will simply be highlighting rather than creating. Above and beyond his eye line, the graphite point gleams dully in the harsh light that cascades down onto the easel.
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Crackers By Pete Texas
I was 12 ½ when my dog ate my rabbit
He chewed on its head like a malnourished Gannet
So I traded Ben for an Arini Parrot
Put her in the hutch with the lettuce and carrot
I was sure with the straw to build Polly a nest
So when she fell asleep she'd have somewhere to rest
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The Flat By The Silver Fox
He emerged from the oven to see the landlord eyeing him as though enquiring as to what he'd expected to find in there. He adopted a knowing expression - as though saying that he hadn't found it and was disappointed.
"Seventy a week?"
"That covers your water rates," came the expansive reply. He nodded, fearing that further conversation would bring
Fiction - Independent By Katherine Horrex Photos by Darren Rogers
The room was pulsing with white noise and euphoria. Giles was positioned behind the sound booth, stupefied by the scene on stage: five Burberry clad men thrashing manically at their instruments, their sixties feather cuts flicking through the damp air.
A final power chord growled through the Marshall stack, reverberating triumphantly and the lead
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The Prescription By The Silver Fox
The pen flashed across the pad like a magic wand. Jeff watched, appropriately spellbound. The prescription was pushed across the desk with neither comment nor eye contact.
"Not much of a bedside manner."
"This isn't a bedside."
Pain sent a stinging retort flying to Jeff's lips; need bit it back.
"Not funny," he mumbled, leaving.
After an agonising moonwalk
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Kids Like That By The Silver Fox
The abuse, though muted by the noise of the engine, was clear and vile in the thick afternoon air. It poured onto the bowed head of the smaller boy; rank as his sweat and tears. He pressed down upon the accelerator and the car shot forward, elongating the bully's last insult into a thin scream.
He was out onto the hot road before the broken bundle had rolled off of the bonnet.
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Who's The Daddy? By Catherine Horlax
I heard footfalls; hollow thuds echoing down the corridor, and drew my knees up so my boots wouldn't be visible. He'd said he'd be there. A tap gushed.
I noticed the door was inscribed with idiocy, and calmed myself with the fact that
'Lisa Hyde stuffs mashed potato up her cunt'.
At least I'd kept my word - I'd said I'd be there too. I laughed because, barring crying,