Thursday, March 12, 2015

I'm a WINNER! sort of...

I entered a 24 hour short story contest and I won...an honourable mention!  It takes so little to make me happy, I am over the moon happy!  I won a free eBook and a magazine subscription.
Check out my name in the Honorable Mention section (4th from the bottom). Way cool huh?

http://writersweekly.com/contest/winter15winners.html

They publish the 1st, 2nd and 3rd place winners on the site and they are great stories. I really liked the first place winner.



Here was our prompt:  We had 24 hours to submit a story.

THE WINTER, 2015 TOPIC

A blizzard raged outside, battering the cozy ski lodge.
Merry skiers drank hot chocolate and hot toddies, excited
about the fresh white powder they'd be conquering tomorrow.
Smiling, she took another sip, her eyes briefly wandering
from the man sitting before her, to a different gentleman
across the room. He was sitting alone, and staring at...

(Stories only needed to touch on that topic in some way to qualify.)



Here is my story:



The Anniversary Gift

The blizzard raged outside, battering the cozy ski lodge. I’d gone outside to walk in the storm as I’d never seen snow before this trip. Not only does it not rain in southern California...

My husband and I had decided when we got married that we would celebrate our anniversaries doing something we’d never done before. In the past we’d gone to the Galapagos Islands and para-sailing over Mexican beaches. This year, our third anniversary, we were skiing in Colorado. Well not actually skiing, more hanging out at the chalet looking like skiers.

I’d finished my not terribly pleasant walk and was headed back to my room. The elevator jerked to a stop. The man standing in front of me cursed softly and started pushing buttons. Nothing happened. “Well,” he said, “isn’t this lovely?”

I looked up and I saw Stephen King looking back at me.

I was stuck on an elevator with my favorite author. I had so many questions to ask him and I wanted to tell him I am a huge fan. In fact I wanted to say something terribly clever, like, “I’m your number one fan”, and wink at him trying to look as loony as Kathy Bates looked in the movie adaptation of his book, Misery.

All I could manage was an unearthly whinny which I followed with a barking cough.

Oh good, now he thought he was trapped on an elevator with a woman who does animal impersonations.

I struggled to think of something witty to say to explain the strange sounds. While I was thinking, I was grinning like I’d won the lottery and I forgot to swallow. Suddenly, I felt drool running down my chin.

Mr. King was looking a little frightened at this point.

I swiped at the drool and my hand slipped in the greasy spittle and I ended up punching myself in the nose which brought tears to my eyes.

He no longer looked frightened; this man was now terrified and stuck on an elevator with what was scaring him.

The thought of him being afraid of me struck me as hilarious and as I opened my mouth to laugh A sneeze worked its way through my nasal cavity.  My mouth was open, and we were locked in a tiny space, the sound was enormous.

He actually jumped away from me.

I needed a tissue and I didn’t have one so I wiped my nose on the sleeve of my fake fur jacket. Some of the fake fur hairs detached from my jacket and stuck to my nose.

I was beet red with a wet chin and a furry nose and teary eyes when suddenly the doors opened and he ran off without saying a word to me.

I went back to my room and didn’t tell my husband the story. It was just too embarrassing a tale to share.  We had reservations for dinner in the hotel so I showered and got ready.

The hostess sat us at a table where we could see the snow falling. Merry skiers drank hot chocolate and hot toddies, excited about the fresh white powder they'd be conquering tomorrow. Smiling, I took a sip or my wine, my eyes briefly wandering from my husband sitting across from me, to a man at the table next to us.  He was sitting alone, and staring at me.

His eyes changed and I realized he recognized me. I wanted to explain. I got up and approached him and he started to stand. I put out my hand to shake his but instead I caught the glass sitting in front of him and red wine splashed out all over his white sweater. I reached for the napkin on his table and as I jerked it up, his cutlery flew into the air and the steak knife touched the back of his hand. It touched hard enough to draw blood.

He said nothing, turned his back on me and ran from the restaurant, I started to run after him to try to explain.

My husband grabbed my arm and said, “I think you should just leave him alone, you were obviously making him uncomfortable.  I think that so far this is the best shot we’ve got of being in a book.”

“Oh, you have no idea honey; I cannot wait to read his next book.”

“Well I still think I have a good chance. ‘Accidentally’ knocking John Saul down the hill into the path of the Komodo dragon and then saving his life still might get me in a book before you. But then I still can’t believe E. L James hasn’t added our nude para-sailing to a book yet. I mean it’s not like she couldn’t have noticed, we landed right in front of her"

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