Short Story - Writers Magazine Competition

This weeks piece is a short story that I submitted for a competition in Writers Magazine. Unfortunately re-reading it today, I didn't employ my wife, Kathy, as a proofreader. That's more than likely why it didn't get anywhere, lesson learned I think. Please enjoy, the subject was a ghost story in daylight and all in 500 words. 

The Sun was shining brightly on Lion-sur-Mer.  The late spring sunshine on the Normandy coast was a stark contrast to the weather 75 years ago on the morning of 6^th June 1944. On the beach code-named Sword, a large crowd gathered for a service to honour those who had bravely stormed ashore on that morning.  Today returning heroes and families were joined by a number of re-enactment volunteers. Dressed in the uniforms of the times, they conveyed the scenes and feelings of the battles.

The early morning temperature rose. It was going to be a hot day and in deference to the ageing returning heroes and the heat, the service was quickly completed.

After a refreshing drink, the assembled crowd boarded an air-conditioned coach for the journey to the cemetery at Ranville. Today I had decided to yomp towards Ranville just as the allied troops had in 1944.

The coach passed me. The boys didn’t have the luxury of transport on this road that fateful day. The purring engine of the passing coach was very different from the loud explosions, gunshots and the rattle of tanks rumbling along this road 75 years ago.

Brigadier Lord Lovat had marched his 1^st Special Service Brigade down this road with his Bag Piper leading in 1944. This had caused much laughter from the passing tankers and Bren gun carriers as they waved their support to the lines of troops marching. Their task was to relieve the paratroopers at Pegasus Bridge

I yomped ahead in the rising heat of the day and was getting close to the bridge where once again I could mingle with the re-enactment volunteers to pay my respects. After another little break, I picked up my kit and made my way towards the cemetery at Ranville.

There was a loud bang. It nearly had me diving into the roadside ditch to take cover but I quickly realised it was the re-enactors, jeep backfiring.  There was a sudden roar of engine noise as a couple of Douglas DC3 Dakotas flew overhead. They were dropping their parachute passengers off over Pegasus Bridge.  Although today was a hot sunlit day, you could almost smell the fear and death that pervaded over the area on that day, 75 years ago.

I neared Ranville; the coaches were off-loading the families to pay their respects. I was puffing a bit when I finally arrived at the cemetery.

I went straight to the row where the lads that we had lost that day were laid. A family followed and joined me alongside the resting place of my colleagues.

“Here’s Grandpa’s grave; hasn’t it gone cold all of a sudden?” one of the women remarked.

I tried to answer but knew I couldn’t. Looking down at the headstone, the woman placed a small

wreath and it was then I realised it was my headstone; it was me who was being remembered. They were my family;

Ford, Frederick Henry

PLY/X204848

No. 48 Commando

Royal Marines

Died Tuesday 6^th June 1944

Short Story - The Start

  Photo by Roberto Nickson from Pexels

This is the first 350 or so words of a short story that I am working on. As I probably will entering the story in a competition in the next few months, with or with this beginning, I need to be a bit careful what is out in the public domain.

This is the start of a story that I have had in mind for nearly 30 years! I think that there are parts of it on 5.25inch floppy discs somewhere!

It will be nice to work it up into about a 4000-word story to see how it works. I would like to think that I could then plan a book out of it.

I read a raw version of this at Ottery writers earlier in the week and received some nice reviews.

What do you think it is? Where's it set?  And what's going to happen next?

Please feel free to comment below. - Many thanks

Perfectly camouflaged against the cloudy dark skies above, the big black shape took care in moving over the top of the slope. Below, its target was oblivious to any movement. Inch by inch it placed its feet without sound, instinctively knowing where twigs and leaves were laying on the ground. Head and body low, it stalked effortlessly towards the unsuspecting target. Patiently edging towards the innocent prey, its senses were hyperactive. Its eyes wide and the large pupils dragging all available light in; its nose was twitching, searching all around for any unanticipated presences. All was silent. Each deliberate step, each placement of the foot; feeling for anything that would give its presence away. The thundering silence could not be broken. Its quarry, even as alert as it was, had no clue to what was happening. One more step brought it to a halt. Its eyes were transfixed by the prize. With thoughtless precision, it instinctively transferred weight and power to its back legs. They slowly and gently slumped into a compressed position, the front legs almost becoming weightless, before the decisive pounce, the final hammer blow of the stalk. The hunter was aware of all that was around it, but its eyes were only fixed on the final goal. The time was now.

Suddenly, from the cloudy sky above, there was the whining noise of aircraft engines. Out of the gloomy sky, lights started to appear and breaking through the night sky loomed a huge airliner. The noise startled the prey and it looked towards the heavens to see what it was, the hunter could see its chance and pounced. The prey didn’t know what hit it. Within seconds its throat was clamped in a vice-like grip. It couldn’t breathe and it panicked violently. The clamp only tightened, squeezing the life away from its victim. Its eyes were wide open in the throes of death whereas the hunters narrowed in pleasure.

Bits and Bobs...oh and a pledge!

These weeks little gem:

Ceraunophilia (n). Loving thunder and lightning and finding them intensely beautiful. The term is derived from the Greek "keraunos" meaning " lightning" or " thunderbolt."

I have posted this as I am keen to work this one into a short story I am writing for a competition.

There will be more about that later.

I have been a bit quiet on the writing front for the last few weeks; after all, you can’t call yourself a writer if you don’t write!

To this end, I have made a pledge to write at least 500 words a day. For me, this is about 30 minutes of work. Today, Sunday 6^th October, I have written over 700 words in about 40 minutes. I have a file where I just write for however long I want to write, just whatever comes to mind. I call it my Free Writing or Consciousness Writings file.

I’ve also made the decision that I will update the blog weekly, probably on a Sunday, so please keep following the blog.

In further news, my article to a dog’s magazine was read by the editor. She found it very interesting and very suitable for their audience. However, unfortunately, they don’t have the budget for ‘out of house work’.  I did ask her to bear me in mind for any future work to which the reply was will do! I felt that there were more positives than negatives. Really happy that I’m starting to be seen as writing in a professional way.

Yesterday I went to a signing event at the bookshop in Ottery St Mary to support two of the Ottery Writers at the launch of their books. Grenville Gilberts ‘More Honest to God’ is a collection of poems following Grenville’s journey through his faith. I have only just started to read it but already I feel inspired by his writings. Also inspiring me is Cynthia Ash’s ‘Little Slice of Paradise’ set in the Caribbean and based upon Cynthia's winter visits. I arrived after the end of the England v Argentina Rugby World Cup game and it was pleasing to hear that it had been well supported. Good luck to you both. I know all of us at Ottery Writer are extremely proud of you both and we have a little gem of a bookshop in Ottery that we all need to support.

Ok, so more on my short story.

I am looking at a couple of short story competitions; one is the Writers Bureau’s short story competition and the other is the Fish Short Story Competition. Both are required by 30^th November. I really need to read the entry rules as I am not too sure that I could enter the same story in both competitions.

I am going to present the first few paragraphs of the story at Ottery Writers on Monday (tomorrow night) to gauge the responses. I had a quick edit of it this morning but I still feel that there is a sentence that might need to come out and I will be interested to hear what people think about the pacing. Both competitions are looking for 4000 words and I’ve got 350 so far. Well, I have more but they are not settled yet. The ending hangs on the beginning, which I need to nail down and I will be able to crack on with the rest of it.

In amongst all of this, I have Assignment N4 to complete for my course. This requires me to study two different magazines and come up with an article for each. I also have to write a query letter for the editor of each of the magazines with the full aim of getting published.

I already have an idea for either the Devon or Exeter Life magazines. Over the last few days I have come up with another idea, but I need to do a bit of research on which magazine I will be pitching it too.

I will be looking for another publication for my Dog article, so a busy week ahead.

Finally, a bit of news on the job front; it looks like I will be staying with Health and Social Care Coordination Team a bit longer and there will be other opportunities as well.

Have a great week everybody!