The Australian Writers’ Centre has a marvellous monthly competition. On the first Friday of each month they publish a set of criteria for a 500 word story. They allow 55 hours to write and submit the story. There is one prize of $500. You can find details for Furious Fiction at this link.
I have entered a few times now and it’s great fun. While I haven’t won (yet) I have been enjoying myself immensely. The writing prompts seem to limit you at first but then as your brain gets ticking, the story takes over and it is indeed, furious!
In July, the restrictions (in addition to the word length) were:
- The first sentence had to be a question.
- You needed to include the words jam, jackpot and jungle.
- The last word had to be BANG!
You can find the winning entry and the short listed stories here.
Here is my effort.
Be careful what you wish for.
“Do you want strawberry or raspberry jam?” Gary asked with his arm hovering mid-shelf.
“What? What did you say?” she said as she shifted her attention from the young couple in front. They looked so peaceful. He just picked things off the shelf and put them in the trolley. The woman nodded. Nothing was said, and they went ahead.
“Strawberry, Gary. Strawberry will be fine.” Her flat voice failed to hide the anger that was ready to burst through her hot skin and slice him into a million tiny shreds!
When she had first met him, she thought she’d hit the jackpot! A caring fellow who always considered her before making decisions that affected her. She had been ready to leave the dating jungle, so she jumped in and got married.
Now after 23 years, he was so damned annoying! Could he not do anything without asking? Could he not stand on his own two feet without checking in? Just once?
There only seemed to be one way out of this mess. He was worth more to her dead than alive. But how to make it seem like an accident?
…
“Do you want strawberry or raspberry jam?” Gary asked with his arm hovering mid-shelf.
He was always careful to make sure he asked her first. He knew if he didn’t there’d be an argument. Gary liked raspberry, but she always said strawberry. If he suggested they buy both, she’d bite his head off.
“Strawberry, Gary. Strawberry will be fine.” she snarled.
He looked away. The young couple in front reminded him of how it had been, once. They looked so peaceful. He just made up his own mind and put things in the trolley. The woman didn’t care. She didn’t censor his choices at every turn.
He thought about leaving Miriam. Every day. Her once charming wit had turned sour. But he knew he couldn’t compete in the jungle where the cougars gobbled up younger men and never considered balding 57 year-olds with pot bellies.
After 23 years he knew her relentless brow beating would go on forever unless he cracked the jackpot and she carked it.
There only seemed to be one way out of this mess. She was worth more to him dead than alive. But how to make it seem like an accident?
…
Finished at last and with the car packed, Miriam got behind the wheel. She started to reverse then had to brake hard as the young couple from before walked behind them. Miriam watched them in the mirror as they kissed. She sighed.
Once on the highway, Miriam and Gary both stared mournfully ahead, secretly imagining their own personal murder-mystery episode. Time passed, neither spoke. Gary turned on the radio to drown out the silence.
A flat-bed lorry carrying huge rolls of newsprint thundered past.
They were doing 100 and it was going faster.
The 18-wheeler swerved.
The load shifted.
The cable snapped.
The roll dropped.
BANG!
This month’s Furious Fiction just started!! (If you’re reading this on the first Friday of the month!!) Have a look and get started!! You’ve got around 54 hours to go