The Very Short Story Writing Competition
You can’t tell a story in 60 words – you can hardly do anything. This is what some people think, but every year the writers of Golden Bay prove them wrong.
Writers of all ages have generously shared their insights, feelings, whimsies and experiences and we are publishing some of the best efforts this week.
Unfortunately we received only seven entries in the 13- to 18 years section. We are publishing a selection of them this week but next week and the week after we will publish more stories by the under 12s and the adults. The judges had a terrible time deciding which ones were winners and even which ones should be published. We thank the teachers who encouraged their classes to have a go and we hope you enjoy the stories as much as we did.
Under 12 years
The horses run like wildfire, across the dry desert plains. The sand is kicked up like dust as they gallop with their heads pushed into the wind. They are determined to reach their destination. Power and adrenaline rushes through the herd. The blazing sun burns their sweaty backs as they push on faster and faster. They are free wild horses.
Laila Balzer
“How much further?” My little sister whined for about the three millionth time since we started going down the Takaka Hill.
We were going into Nelson for a shopping spree and I could hardly wait.
“I’m gonna get a goody goody gumdrops ice cream!” yelled my annoying sister.
I sighed. This was going to be a long ride.
Evelyn Morrish
Me and my family were heading out for lunch at a sushi bar when Dad tricked me into thinking spicy wasabe was avocado so I took a whole mouthful. Aaaaaaaaaah! It was like swallowing fire. It killed my tastebuds. I spat it all out on Dad’s plate and I spent the rest of the day drinking milk. Mean old Dad!
Hayze Shuttleworth
13-18 years
Waiting, always waiting, your surroundings always changing but you never move, and you once changed with them, but now dust falling into words, dancing through you, unable to be seen. Now ripped, forgotten and alone.
Judging by your cover and never the story inside, then a smile peers through your pages and you finally have a dance partner for your words.
Rachel Sadowski
You’re sinking. You yell. Bubbles race to the surface. You kick your pale legs but your billowing dress clings to them, disabling them from moving. You twist your body into a grotesque shape, fearing the worst, when you feel a firm grip on your waist. Your head breaks the surface, your dry lungs fill with oxygen and your life continues.
Tullia Wilson
Every day, I get walked over. Kicked, jumped on. No one cares about what I’m feeling, with them trampling all over me. Standing on me, like nothing is wrong with just walking all over someone. How could they? It’s not fair. I have feelings too, how can they not realise that? They’re no better than bullies.
I am the floor.
Calum Lewis
Adults
Her reflection looks faded in the saltwater. Or maybe it’s the twilight we’re swimming in now. She floats on her back smiling. I stand swaying in the push-pulling of the waves. I can’t run fast in the saltwater. Can’t run at all really. No rush though. I take her ankles in my hands. She pulls herself in close to me.
John Black
The woman gurgled cheerfully into her palm with concentric umbrellas encroaching upon her in the dewy sunlight. Her palm left words imprinted on her cheek in the dark in the nighttime and now read:
bananas
buttons
matches
badges
badgers
dates
research the bees!
She glistened in crescendo at the awakening day with lists imprinted in the sky, heavenly domestic patterns.
Hannah Schenker
Long, stretched and lean
playing your blue guitar slung low
eyes shining out through your auburn hair, just so.
You amble forward on skinny jean legs
questioning everything and full of new,
suprising passions.
Can’t wait to drive,
to do, see and be it all
frustrated by the too slow passage of time
full of the possibilities of being fourteen.
Lisa Gardiner
