Ha-ha-ahem. Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages…
It is my proudest, most triumphant and blissful pleasure to deliver to you today the names of the winners of the 2024 SCENIC WRITER’S SHACK Short Story Competition. Can I please get a whoo-hoo!
Thank you to everyone who entered. You waggish word-warriors channeled your sentence sparkle and tier-one adjectives in unique and highly entertaining ways. Storytelling sugar-highs were aplenty.
But there can be only one… er, make that… three, winners. Please join me now in welcoming them to the stage –
And why exactly are those by-now crispy rock dinosaurs KISS introducing Anne Wilkin’s winning short story?
When you lose yourself in this simply-told and simply brilliant 500-worder, you will, I promise, understand why.
Enjoy the charm. Enjoy the quirk. Enjoy the ‘limited edition’ ending. Enjoy –
Dylan’s face had turned a pale shade of old sock. He’d expected maybe acne wash, undies, or aftershave. But what he got was Maree 5.0.
“Happy birthday pet! She cost a bit, but I thought you could do with some help,” said his Mum. “With what?” “You know, the kissing.”
His brother and father contorted themselves laughing. “Come on, we’ve all seen you practising in the crook of your elbow, with an apple, in the mirror, on–” “I wasn’t!” “Whatever. The point is, Maree can help. She’ll teach you, give you confidence, improve your game.” “MUM!”
Dylan stormed off to his room, with the head of Maree under his arm. He was not and never would be using Maree 5.0. Two hours later (just because he was bored) he had programmed Maree to speak English with a French accent, plumped up her lips to mega volume, turned them a lovely shade of pink, and made her eyes blue.
“Vould you like to kiss me, monsieur?” she asked. “I vould like to kiss you, vewee much.” Oh, what the Hell, Dylan thought. He leaned in and gave her a peck. Surprisingly, her lips felt very soft, but perhaps a little too big. He’d adjust that later.
“Oh, nice monsieur. But can I suggest you brush your teeth, and we try again. My mouth sensors detect a halitosis rating of 5.0.” Christ, thought Dylan. Is my breath really that bad? After a thorough tooth brushing he tried again, but Maree advised him his lips were too dry. He tried again with ChapStick. Maree told him he was too quick. He took his time and went in for a longer smooch.
“Nice work, monsieur. That kiss has a rating of 2.0. To improve your rating I suggest…” Maree rattled off several helpful tips. And he tried again, and again, and again. After an hour, his kiss rating had risen to 5.0, but Maree told him there was still plenty of room for improvement.
“Having fun, sweetheart?” called out his Mum from behind the door. “No!” he yelled. Although, he kinda was. After one week, Dylan had learned to kiss like a pro. He could kiss romantically with Maree’s face cupped in his hands. He could kiss passionately, with his lips travelling to the nape of her neck, and he could French kiss, his tongue an urgent probe of desire. After a particularly intoxicating kissing session in the afternoon, Dylan earned his first 9.0.
“I think… I love you,” he whispered into Maree’s ear. And then she died. “Maree!” He turned her on and off again, but there was no flicker of life. He scoured the instruction manual but found nothing. There was one last thing.
One last kiss to give – mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. He tilted her head back, pinched her nostrils and exhaled. The kiss of life. Maree’s blue eyes flashed instantly. “10.0,” she said, as her systems rebooted.
Next week, our equal second-place getter Diana Webb hits us right between the eyes with a gulp-worthy story a ‘cut-above-the-rest’.
Like LESSONS IN LOVE 1.0, by pure coincidence, this piece of story-telling brilliance happens also to feature a pair of pacific-blue eyes. You won’t want to miss –
Before we leave the land of robot love and automated kisses altogether, for the theater-buffs amongst us (SCENIC WRITER’S SHACK took in a performance of GASLIGHT last week that went off royally… not to mention creepily!) there’s this…
If you’re looking for your HAPPY DAYS hit, it’s right HERE
woo hoo!
Ha ha!
I asked for it and like a literary-minded, friendly Uber you delivered.
Thank you Beth!
That was SO cute. Just adorable. And hilarious. It moved. Yes, it had to, since she had to make her point by 500 words, but it’s not easy! I loved it. And it actually sounded like a product that would be a good idea! lol Maybe the author should patent it!!
Looking forward to the rest.
Speaking of which… where is everybody? How can just me and Pam and Beth and Zeke be liking your page? We didn’t even send in stories!
Thanks so much for your comment Stacey.
I really hope the author of the story gets to read it.
Sometimes the silence that greets posts around these parts is so deafening I’m tempted to don earplugs. But I’ve gotten used to it. Me saying that implies a kind of acceptance, I guess. But part of me does yearn for more eyes on the posts. I’m only human, afterall. And another part of me also believes the quality is there that deserves more readers. But things don’t necessarily work out that way. As I’ve learned.
I’ve seen sites that have more than 10 000 followers, that week to week, only attract 3 or 4 comments, always from the same couple of people. That’s got to be frustrating for the owners of those sites as well. But like I say, you learn to live with it (but not necessarily like it).
In the end, like so many other things, you just end up doing something that brings yourself pleasure and feelings of accomplishment. If anyone else happens to share those feelings then that’s a bonus. Sounds like a cliche but what else is there?
Maybe the silent majority is out there and actually hanging on every word of competition updates and posted winning stories? I really don’t know. I’d like to add ‘And I don’t care’ but that wouldn’t be entirely true.
Yeah, no, we do care. I think you hit it dead center anyway: we do it for the pleasure first. Viewers, spectators, commenters are the cherry on top, I guess.
But props to you, again, for your contest, all the applicants you received, and your diligence in reading, choosing, complimenting, doing your usual colorful and inventive write-up of the winner, and basically giving lots of people an outlet and potential public forum for their creativity, Glen. 🙂
Reading these thoughts from you Stacey makes it all seem worth doing. Thanks to you I’m now enjoying my cheery on top!
Darn. I missed the competition. Just as well. I doubt I would have topped the first place winner.
Ha ha. You never know!
It would have been so nice to get an entry from you Linda.
Oh well. Maybe next January/February.