Esther Chilton

6 responses to “My Weekly Writing Challenge”

1. 

   Keith Channing

   July 10, 2014

   Ooh. That was a tougher one. However, here’s “It’s a mug’s game”. I can’t use italics in the reply box, so lines that are the narrator’s thoughts are enclosed in double hash signs:

   It was three o’clock in the morning when he eventually rolled in, drunk as a skunk, with a smell to match. His hair was matted with blood, there was an open wound on his right cheek and his clothes were filthy and torn.
   “Hello, love,” he said. “I think I got mugged on the way home.”
   “My God, look at the state of you. Don’t take your coat off, let’s get you to hospital and get that face looked at.”
   “Why? Wassappened?”
   “You have a massive cut, and it’s still bleeding,” I said, as I was putting some clothes on. “Come on.”
   I drove him to the local A&E, about twenty minutes away. Unusually, it was quiet, and they had him straight into a cubicle. Within less than half an hour, he was being stitched. Because of the nature of his injuries, the hospital had notified the police, and two constables were waiting to talk to him as soon as the medics had finished.
   Of course, he could tell them nothing. He had no recollection of anything beyond meeting a group of people and being hit by one of them. The police asked him if anything had been stolen. He had no idea at all.
   “Was I wearing a watch when I went out, love?”
   “Yes, you were,” I said.
   “Which one?” he asked.
   “I don’t bloody know. I just know you looked at it before you left the house.”
   “I had a watch on, and it’s not there now,” he said to the policeman.
   “Can you describe it, Sir? Make, type, colour or anything?”
   ##Are you having a laugh? Of course he can’t.##
   “No, sorry.”
   “Anything else? Wallet, cash?”
   ##Yeah, right. As if he would have any idea how much cash he had in his pocket after a heavy night drinking.##
   “Not that I know.”
   “Thing is, Sir,” said the other policeman, “there’s been a gang running around the city for a few nights now, jumping people coming out of pubs and clubs, stealing their valuables, and leaving them in a bad state. One man died last night, and one from earlier in the week is still in a coma.”
   “Well, I don’t have any valuables on me,” my still-drunk husband replied, “so it wouldn’t have done them any good if they’d tried to get anything off me.”
   “Quite, Sir,” the policeman said, “but if you think of anything else, you will let us know, won’t you?”
   “Yes, of course.”
   ##Again – yeah, right. If he thinks of anything. Him?
   Perhaps tomorrow he would look at things a little differently and realise what a lucky escape he’d had.##

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   1. 

      esthernewton2013

      July 11, 2014

      I’m glad I managed to challenge you with a tough one! But as always, you didn’t disappoint. I love the wife’s thoughts! 🙂

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2. 

   Kenneth Robson

   July 10, 2014

   I enjoy reading your blog with suggestion for writers to improve their skills, and am most appreciative of you taking a look at some of my posts. My literary efforts, such as they are, aim at informing rather than entertaining, and lack interest for most readers. I would like to be able to develop your story-telling skills one day, but fear I’m a bit old for new tricks, Thanks.

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   1. 

      esthernewton2013

      July 12, 2014

      Thank you, Kenneth for your comments. I’m only too happy to support you and read your posts. I have students of all sorts of ages so you’re never too old to learn! Have a good weekend 🙂

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3. 

   Jasdeep Kaur

   July 16, 2014

   Left Behind

   Tim waved good-bye to his team from the window of the room, where he lay with his plastered leg. He was the best player of the team and they had won all the matches till now. It was the final match of the tournament. He had huge hopes to make a record of winning the international championship as debutant. He tried to hide his frustration, but his gloomy eyes were revealing his heart.

   The bus roared off. The team was excited as they left for the flight. The fervour in the bus was increasing with each mile they covered.

   But there was dire silence in Tim’s room. It was past midnight and he was awake. The clock ticks started making him restless. He shouted, “Shut up!”

   The bus was speeding towards the destination in the dark moonless night. The claps suddenly turned into a bang. The glass scattered and blood draped bodies flung all over.

   Unaware of the mishap, Tim tossed his bat over and over on the bed. He cursed the moment when he fell breaking the bone of his leg.

   Perhaps tomorrow he would look at things a little differently and realise what a lucky escape he’d had.

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   1. 

      esthernewton2013

      July 16, 2014

      Wow! He certainly will. A great interpretation of that last line. A super story 🙂

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