May 2012 theme and competition entries

[Tallyman]

May 2012 theme & competition: Mayday!

Set by Tallyman

 

Perhaps an obvious choice for the month, but one with plenty of scope! There's the Mayday festival, of course, and all the associations with spring, awakening and blossoming courtships, but also the Mayday call of distress, trouble and the need for assistance. Maybe these two strands combine somehow with a kind of 'Trouble at the Maypole' story, or maybe something else entirely.

 

Good luck, and I look forward to reading your pieces.

 

TO ENTER: Competition entries of 500 words or less should be posted on this thread. If you prefer to write a longer story, outside of the competition, then please post it in a new thread with both the title and 'May 2012' in the heading.

 

JUDGING: Tallyman will judge the entries, and will announce the winner in early June.

 

THE PRIZE: The prestige of becoming the SFWG Competition Winner AND the opportunity to choose the writing theme for July 2012.

 

COMPETITION PROTOCOL: All writers enjoy receiving feedback, be it high praise or constructive criticism, but in the interests of competition decorum, please could we ask you not to post your comments on individual entries until after the winner has been announced. After that, please feel free to let rip with as much feedback as you like!

 

Any problems posting/uploading your piece, please consult the guidance 'stickies' at the top of the Forum page. If you still have problems, please contact either Tallyman or Ron Blanco.

 

Have fun!

 

Tallyman

[sci fi]

The flight of the Morriis Man

 

As the alarm sounded the Captain of the Space ship “Morriis man” pulled himself from a deep and dreamless slumber. Captain Staines rubbed his tired and blood shot eyes then yawned and farted simultaneously. Staines pressed the intercom button, “Bridge, what’s the problem?” A short silence, from the time battered but ever reliable intercom and then the slightly accented voice of First mate Pagan Ritual, “Captain, we picked up a mayday coming from a small Maypole class ship, there was no reply when hailed.” The captain thought for a Nano second, then asked “signs of life?” the first mate replied. “No signs of life when we scanned them sir.” Then as an afterthought “Sir, The last time we snagged a Maypole for salvage we made a good profit” Captain Staines thought for a moment. “You did the right thing Pagan, thanks for letting me sleep till the last moment, I appreciate it. Staines, jumped from his grubby cot, “go ahead with the docking, I will meet the team at the docking station in five minutes.”

Captain Staines suited up and headed to the docking station, as he arrived three of his best men were already waiting for him, “Captain” the men saluted. “At ease gentlemen, this isn’t a goddamned Navy boat. How long till the doors open” and before anyone could answer Captain Staines pressed the com-link on his suit, “how long till we have air lock established bridge?” At that exact moment the air gushed out of the docking ports. “The docking lock has been established sir, all checks say the air on the Maypole is good Captain.” And at that moment the locking mechanism on the porthole doors unlocked and there was a slight gush of air. “Ok, Pagan, we are going in, lock the door behind us and you know the rules, if it goes pear shaped the crews safety comes first.”

Inside the Maypole, there were no signs of damage to the ship, the four men headed to the bridge and powered up the ships computers. At that moment Captain Staines heard an alarm, although this alarm wasn’t coming from the ship. Somehow it was coming from what seemed like inside his head. A faint alarm sounded and then Captain Staines of the Space ship Morriis man, then he heard his mother’s voice. “Josh” “Josh, your dinners ready, Get off that damn machine and come down for your lunch right away” And at that moment Captain Staines realised that he wasn’t Captain Staines of the Morriis Man at all, he was in fact Josh Penbroke, and his lunch was ready, and that he had set the alarm before he had put the head set on to play on his brand new xbox 3,000,000 top of the range psychic with full emersion capabilities. Josh took the head set off and unplugged the suit. “Coming mother” and with that Josh ran downstairs to his waiting dinner and left his game till later.

 

 

By JLK

[mr_blue_owl]

Mayday, Mayday

 

The metal albatross

Over Krakatoa flying

Mayday, Mayday

‘This is the captain speaking

All four engines are down’

There hangs a deathly silence

A young girl starts to cry

An old lady reads her bible

A man writes a farewell note

 

The metal albatross

Slowly is descending

Mayday, Mayday

‘This is the captain speaking

There is no need to panic’

There hangs a deathly silence

A couple holding hands

Two strangers do the same

The hostess gives a smile

 

The metal albatross

Quietly is gliding

Mayday, Mayday

‘This is the captain speaking

Engines choked with ash’

There hangs a deathly silence

Passengers crane necks

See only sparkling water

Rushing up to greet them

 

The metal albatross

In sunlight is glinting

Mayday, Mayday

‘This is the captain speaking

Fasten your seat belts’

There hangs a deathly silence

A boy hugs his teddy bear

The old lady closes her bible

The man finishes his note

 

The metal albatross

Over water skimming

Mayday, Mayday

‘This is the captain speaking

Prepare for water landing’

There hangs a deathly silence

The couple kiss goodbye

The hostess sheds a tear

Someone says a prayer

 

The metal albatross

Huge wings levelling

Mayday, Mayday

‘This is the captain speaking

Number One engine started’

There hangs a deathly silence

Hope still lingers on

Hands grip armrests tight

A woman starts to scream

 

The control tower listens

But no longer hearing

Mayday, Mayday

Black smoke gently drifting

Holy Bible floating

Farewell note fluttering

A sad and soggy teddy bear

The remnants of existence

There hangs a deathly silence

[sugarnspice]

May’s Day.

 

It really wasn’t May’s day. Her run of bad luck had started in the morning when she’d left Rodger’s breakfast cooking unattended, to answer the telephone, and ended up burning the lot. The worst thing was that it was one of those pesky double glazing sales calls. She kept trying to butt in and tell the loud lady on the other end that the house was council rented but it was no use, the loud lady had a ready prepared script and by god, she was going to read it.

 

Rodger was cross (just lately, Rodger was eternally cross). He snapped at her, the usual barbs fired across the lemon yellow kitchen, she couldn’t be trusted, she was a waste of space, a useless cook, did she really expect him to eat this rubbish? He threw her favourite cup, the one with the cheerful spring daffodils, it smashed against the wall. Her bottom lip trembled as she felt the force of the slammed door and heard the crunch of gravel as the car sped off. A few tears leaked from her eyes as she set to cleaning up the mess.

 

May grabbed her handbag and left for town, an afternoon of coffee and cake with her oldest and dearest friend, Pauline. Her steps quickened as she spotted the 97 coming around the corner. She wasn’t quite at the stop when it flew by. The driver spotted her but he was having a bad day too so, spitefully, left her lonely and sorrowful and twenty minutes late.

 

Pauline wasn’t too chuffed, she had to be at the hairdressers in forty minutes for her monthly cut and blow-dry. What kind of gossip could they have in forty bloody minutes, she sniffed. Typically, Pauline chattered non-stop about herself, her children, how clever they are, never thinking to stop and ask how May’s day was going. May didn’t mind though, she never complained, she wasn’t that sort.

 

She felt a little lost when they parted ways and couldn’t think of how to spend the rest of the snatched afternoon. So she just went home. The return bus ride wasn’t much fun; it was full of school kids, their chewing gum and their obnoxious strings of expletives. She felt exhausted by the time she reached the end of her road.

 

Rodger’s car was in the drive which it had no place to be at 3.45pm. She hoped he had calmed down and that they could try and have a nice evening. She’d do him his favourite, egg and chips, and she wouldn’t burn a thing. She’d even do fried bread and maybe even a nice crumble for after? He’d like that.

 

But Rodger was busy entertaining his fluffy secretary, Miss. Nancy Watkins. Miss. Nancy Watkins grasped the kitchen worktop and Rodger had his crumpled work trousers around his ankles, and was reaching a happy conclusion.

 

It really wasn’t May’s day.

[De Batz]

Apologies for the language. Helen's, not mine.

 

Mayday

 

01.05.1998

 

Weird day. Everything normal (s--t) up until after school. Dad was in the Botanical Gardens waiting for me. The first thing I thought was that Grandad must have died, but it wasn't that. Don't often see dad upset, but eventually he told me that mum's off with some other bloke. Apparently I've met him at some do or other, but I can't remember. Anyway, turns out that this has been going on for a while, which at least explains some of mum's strangeness.

So we went to the pub together, which was a bit weird because I was still in my uniform. I don't think dad noticed, and I suppose I hid it reasonably well with my hoodie, but there were a few in there that you could tell were looking at me funny. I think some of them thought that he was a pervert chasing schoolgirls... He told me loads of things I'd never known before about him and mum, how they got together and stuff. He said that he'd even said about giving up work altogether, but that mum had told him that was ridiculous, which I suppose it is when you think about it. I didn't have a drink at first, but dad was drinking, so I did in the end. After about half an hour he gets out a packet of fags! Well! The sly *******. I'd never known that, but he obviously doesn't smoke often because he had matches, and any proper smoker would've had a lighter.

So I thought, 'now or never,' and had one with him. I think he's always known, because the number of times he's tactically disappeared at gigs and stuff... I hope he's not disappointed. He can't be, anyway, because that'd be well hypocritical. So anyway, he keeps telling me how much he loves me, which to be honest got tedious after a bit. I wonder if he sees me as some sort of mum-substitute, like if he gets it right with me it'll make things better with her. Or maybe he just wants to make sure that when they go off to live in different houses, I'll go with him. I don't know. They can both f--- right off, anyway, since I've got a fortnight left of school before exams. Perhaps I'll live on my own. It can't be much worse than this constant b------ks I get here. I suppose dad at least tries, but he needs to get a life of his own, rather than trying to live mine. Maybe this is the best thing that could've happened to him. Typical mum to wait while now to tell him about it. Typical dad to tell me at all.

[Owethemnowt]

He always kept his promises.

 

We drove out to the reservoir. Not much was said. I was sure it would be the same as before. She was certain. I thought there was a difference between us. Me, I wanted to be wrong. I wanted to wake up and find the day hadn't started. But it had. And here we were driving out, as instructed, to the reservoir.

 

The approach was from the east and so we came upon the turn off unexpectedly. A gravelled lane cutting sharply back on itself and disappearing between pine trees into a darkened hollow. No tracks then. No muddy impressions of tyre treads like on TV and bits of clothing snagged on wire.

 

Here there was nothing at all.

 

The water stretched away into the distance grey and flat. Fish rose and disturbed the mirrored surface, now momentarily rippled before settling back under its skin. There were no birds. No sounds. Even the wind didn't come here. And then, there it was. A gash in the green hillside. Something white. Something broken. Like splintered wood. At first it was a line out to my left, back beyond the tree line.

 

She'd seen it too but was moving now along the water's edge. Not getting any nearer but just moving parallel assessing how it got there. Must have come through the woods. Left the road before the turn and come down from the higher ground. Same as before then. On a hill. In a clearing. Near water.

 

She asked me if I wanted to go up. I said we’d found it and that was enough. Make the call but she was already striding out, fastening her coat, as if she ever needed holding together. I followed quickly after her trying all the way to catch her and only managing to match her stride.

 

She stopped instinctively. Five metres squarely in front and crouched down. Why did she always do that? I looked above towards the higher ground. I could make out a route between the branches. Having to move to the left, come back right, stoop slightly and then straight on, to here. Here. Another one.

 

She’d seen enough. For now. And made the call. I watched as she moved back the way we’d come. She said she’d pull the car off the road but that I was to follow her back. She repeated it and called me Martin.

 

I said there’s something in the hand. It’s a fist. Something dark. She said she knew and that it’s earth. He’s started burying them.

 

That was the only change. A hand full of earth. The body had been drained of blood, a single incision, the mouth open, the eyes missing, the legs wide, the left hand on the inner thigh and the right, now clenched. Female. Aged 8. The Marlow girl.

 

He’d kept his promise. But we were both wrong.

 

May. We had 30 days or there’d be another one.

[CraigDaley]

Hello

I've just joined the Writer's Group, but I write and draw comedy horror comics with Sheffield locations, could I enter one into this competition?

cheers

Craig

[FatDave]

Hello

I've just joined the Writer's Group, but I write and draw comedy horror comics with Sheffield locations, could I enter one into this competition?

cheers

Craig

 

That's an awesome idea, how would you do it though? Submit your work to a photodump site perhaps?

[CraigDaley]

I have them as PDFs, Word Doc files and as single page jpgs, these are digital comics that sell locally on CDrom and as downloads via various sites and devices.

 

All six comics and the three titles in the Surreal Murder Mystery Series are set in Sheffield, that's Meadowhell: The True Horror of Shopping, Spring Heeled Jack: From the Tunnels of Hell and Football Crazy: The Theatre of Nightmares on the Road to Insanity.

 

Example, Spring Heeled Jack Part One is 25MB for the PDF, but just 3.07MB for the word doc, that's 35 full colour pages with a front cover and back cover.

 

Not sure I'm explaining this clearly, sorry... Take a look at my blog and it should maker sense, hopefully, that's http://www.cdgraphicnovels.blogspot.com

 

cheers

Craig

[mr_blue_owl]

I have them as PDFs, Word Doc files and as single page jpgs, these are digital comics that sell locally on CDrom and as downloads via various sites and devices.

 

All six comics and the three titles in the Surreal Murder Mystery Series are set in Sheffield, that's Meadowhell: The True Horror of Shopping, Spring Heeled Jack: From the Tunnels of Hell and Football Crazy: The Theatre of Nightmares on the Road to Insanity.

 

Example, Spring Heeled Jack Part One is 25MB for the PDF, but just 3.07MB for the word doc, that's 35 full colour pages with a front cover and back cover.

 

Not sure I'm explaining this clearly, sorry... Take a look at my blog and it should maker sense, hopefully, that's http://www.cdgraphicnovels.blogspot.com

 

cheers

Craig

 

The one about United players getting bumped off looks quite appealing