There are a wealth of fabulous stories here for you to enjoy, many of them winners or runners up in our annual short story competitions. Find out about this year’s competition here…
Secret Cat – by Michael English
Received Highly Recommended in Cambridge Writers 2015 Short Story Competition So here I am with my friend Marvin in a big room in a big building in a place Marvin calls London. Over there is a dumpy woman in a posh frock who’s holding a gold medallion on a scarlet ribbon. The dumpy woman is coming this way. She must want to play shiny-thing-on-a-string with me. What does she think I am, a kitten? “Now be a good girl, James,” Marvin whispers, and he strokes me under the chin just where I like it making me purr fit to bust.
Out of the Blue – by Tim Love
Won Highly Recommended at the Cambridge Writers Short Story Competition “My money’s running out,” said Hanna on the phone, “let’s decide quickly. How about one of the clubs by the canal?” “Which?” “I don’t know, they keep changing. Saturday night then?” “OK. It’ll be great to see you again” I shouted over the beeps as the line went dead. That was on Wednesday. Now it’s Saturday noon and I’m snacking at the Kaufhaus in what used to be East Berlin. So much has changed from the time when I passed between the city’s halves more easily than she could. But
Behind Closed Doors – by Angela Wray
Won Second Prize at the Cambridge Writers Short Story Competition 2015 Not long before she’d given birth to Dorothea, in 2038, the government had announced that 95% of the UK population were clinically obese. Hospitals were experiencing regular bed crises – not just shortages but actual collapses as beds buckled under thirty-stone bodies. The main childhood disease was diabetes; school PE lessons were prohibited because so many children had dropped dead with heart attacks. Despite massive objections from the food lobby, it was decreed that all food production, consumption and distribution would be centrally controlled. Portions were scientifically gauged, nutritionally
Bathsheba – by Harry Goode
Was Highly Recommended at the Cambridge Writers Short Story Competition 2015 I had not realised just how powerful my mother was until I saw my half-brother Absalom swinging by his hair from the thorn tree. He had tried to seize the throne from King David, our mutual father, but Joab, the King’s captain, had decisively defeated his forces. Absalom had fled on his mule and in a bold move had ridden the beast at speed under the low branches of some thorn trees. If he had succeeded he would have delayed his pursuers sufficiently to make good an escape. I
Eggs Benedict – by Alice Turner
Awarded second prize in Cambridge Writers Short Story Competition 2014. Eggs Benedict, crispy bacon, Belgian waffles. Stuffed at breakfast. The waffles, strangers to the continent of Europe, just a trifle stale in the Caribbean heat. He arrives with effort, she follows with the downcast eyes, her hair a little straggled. Is it that look that gives her away? She’s not alone. There are other thin people lost in this little paradise. Now they sit. The table grates on the terrace tiles, moved to make more space. He looks outwards, studying other guests while his bottom, with rolls of fat, overlaps
The Dangerous Comma – by Will Tate
Awarded third prize in Cambridge Writers Short Story Competition 2014. Long ago I had resolved never again to have writers for friends. I suffered too much for them, and with them, when they could not write. But the fourteen years that I had spent away from writing, and writers, always felt more like exile than escape and, in that time, a new generation, writing in a new style, had grown up. I had seen their fathers write, and known them well, but I had also heard and read of the abuses that had become so widespread in this closely-knit world
The Taxi Driver – by Angela Wray
Highly commended at the Cambridge Writers Short Story Competition 2014. Leila slipped through the hole in the fence and looked around. How strange, she thought, that this garden could be so completely different from her own – no climbing frame, no swing hanging from the big branch of the apple tree; in fact no apple tree at all, just a gnarled old plum with fruit just beginning to ripen, and a few enormous, unkempt rose bushes. Leila breathed in the deep, spicy scent of the roses and decided she would pick one on her way out if no-one was looking,
Tracking James -by Les Brookes
Highly commended in Cambridge Writers Short Story Competition 2014. And after all she was not a prying mother. She had always respected his privacy, his right to live his own life without interference. She had never so much as passed comment, had she? Well, nothing beyond a mild hint here and there, a light nudge in the ribs; and surely any mother was entitled to that. How strange if she were to show no interest. He was her only child, for goodness sake, and now that Gordon had gone to live with that woman, almost her only family. So why
Wimbledon to Wood Green – by Les Brookes
Awarded first prize in Cambridge Writers Short Story Competition 2014. Oh, hullo. Is that Stew? It’s Rog. Yeah, that’s right, Rog. Rog Molesworth. Bit of a shock, eh? This voice from the spirit world? No, honestly, it’s not a hoax call. Yeah, I know it’s been a long time, mate. Too long. And it’s all my fault, sorry. I meant to stay in touch, but well, you know how it is – you put things off, life takes a funny turn, you hit a bad patch. Oh look, I won’t bore you with the details. Anyway, I tried ringing Chaucer
Red Snapper – by Karin Milner
Frank always drove the 132 bus down Marine Boulevard to the Farmers’ Market in Seattle and nothing got him in more of a bad mood than Maddy coming to work with him. “Don’t tell me fresh fish for dinner again – nice and healthy”, he shouted at Maddy, before turning his head to the other passengers, just to make sure the sting had worked. Maddy sat demurely on the seat behind him, long golden curls flowing softly on bronzed shoulders. She looked down at her basket and shopping list, pushed her glasses back as she did when Frank embarrassed her.
