September Mini Contest

– Sept 2024

Thanks to everyone who entered our September Mini Contest, and congratulations to the winning writers! Their stories are featured below.

Contestants wrote a 300-500 word short story based on the picture prompt. It’s no easy task writing a story with so few words, but the results that came in were amazing.

Read on to enjoy the winning stories!

The Cure

© Valentina Pohl Fabris – Age 10, New Zealand

The sandy wind lazily spun around the houses of Portville, one of which was David’s. David is a young boy with a huge problem. His father, Ignatius, had caught a very bad disease that makes terrible boils show up on your skin. It makes you weak and at times even unconscious. So David and the rest of his family sought anxiously for a cure.

***

David, Joshua and Mark laughed together as one of them made a hilarious joke. David had a strange feeling that someone was watching him. He uneasily looked around. To his surprise, there was an old man in a corner beckoning to him. He was dressed in rags and had a splintered wooden cane. His eyes were full of wisdom.

David slipped away from the two boys and went towards the man.

“Do you really want the cure for your father?”

“Yes sir,” David replied without hesitation.

“Then take your father to the Spring of Life. Take this with you also.” The man placed a bundle in his hand.

“What’s this, sir?”

“Just believe me,” said the man solemnly,

“How do I get to this spring, please sir?”

The wise man just looked up to the heavens. David looked up too, and, seeing nothing, his eyes turned back down to ask the man what he meant.

But the man had vanished.

***

They had been traveling for three exhausting days when they came to a lush rainforest. Inside the bundle that the man had given David contained a flask of water and a loaf of bread. They had eaten all of it, yet the next day the bag was full again.

Despite the tiresome journey, it seemed as if Ignatius’s blisters had lessened and the two went along more easily together. They tramped through the thick vegetation, father helping son and son helping father.

“Hey, you know, my boy, I am definitely getting less dizzy, ” declared Ignatius.

“Oh, that’s great, father!” cried David.

On the fourth day they got lost since there was no path to follow in the rainforest.

“Let us turn back, my son,” said Ignatius.

“No father, let’s keep going. We’ve gone this far already,” urged David. “You always told me never to give up!”

So they lay down to sleep on a bed of leaves. That night David had a dream. He dreamed of a shining figure dressed in a white robe and bathed in light. It pointed North with its nimble finger. When David woke up he knew the right way to follow.

A day later, they heard the sound of trickling water. Both had the same thought: the Spring of Life is close by! They pushed past the massive leaves of the rainforest until they came into a clearing. There in the middle was a bubbling fountain with daisies and buttercups surrounding it.

“Jump in, father!” shouted the boy.

Ignatius ran lively to the edge of the spring.

“Look at your father,” said a familiar voice. The old man was sitting on a rock behind them!

“He doesn’t need a spring. He never did. It was your love and faith that saved him”

Ignatius’s skin was as smooth as a pebble and now he could prance like a deer.

The Reflection of a Thousand Possiblities

© Talia Millership – Age 12, New Zealand

Her pudgy little fingers gently eased open the weathered history book, so as to cause it no further damage. She stared intensely at the familiar title which read ‘Echo and Narcissus’. Her emerald eyes travelled further down the page, where she absorbed the story that she had read many times before.

Echo was the nymph destined to a fate where she could only repeat the sounds and last words of others.

Narcissus was the hunter from Thesipiae in Boeotia, famous for his incomparable beauty.

Legend had it that Narcissus thought himself so handsome that he fell in love with his own reflection, and that one day, Echo spied on him by the pool and fell under his hypnotic spell.

Finally, Echo decided to try and embrace him, only to have Narcissus reject her, so she had fled and hidden. While she pined for him, Echo’s body wasted away, whilst by the pool Narcissus refused to drink or eat, and spent his final breath whispering love to his reflection in the pool of water.

Nora closed the book with a sigh. She lived in the village that had been created in Echo’s name, which happened to be a short distance from the pool where Narcissus had supposedly lain. Although Nora was only seven, she already longed to leave her home and discover the world. Of course, in her small town such a thought was forbidden. You were to live your life as you were told, and then, from the age of sixteen devote your entire being to the memory of Echo and Narcissus.

She got to her feet and left her cosy little cottage to observe the villagers outside. Women were in their backyards washing their linen whilst some of the smaller children were in the village garden planting seeds in hope of fresh fruits and vegetables in spring. Men were returning from the forest with slaughtered animals slung over their shoulders, and a few of the older kids were setting the table ahead of the communal dinner.

Nora slipped silently away from the crowd and made her way to the pool where Narcissus had for so long gazed at his reflection with self love. She knew the area was restricted for village elders but she couldn’t help herself watching the shimmering water as it rippled slightly every time the wind shifted. She gazed deeply into the pool, admiring the reflection of the looming trees, and whilst the sun had gone to hide in the cloud cover, the summer air moved around her, warming her body. Her chestnut hair fell longer than her shoulders and her green eyes sparkled. It was the perfect moment when, suddenly, a gruff voice shattered the gentle silence.

“What are you doing by my pool?” Nora swivelled to face an incredibly handsome man. She didn’t know it, but her life was about to change, because she was standing face to face with the legendary Narcissus.

Mrs. Harris’s Millinery Shop

© Talitha – Age 13, United States

Gemma took a deep breath and rapped on the door. The advertisement in the Courier had given plain directions to this address, but the small stone cottage, barely visible behind a tangle of thorny vines, was not what she had expected.

The door creaked open. A bird’s nest, thankfully empty, fell onto the ground and she jumped back.

“It’s not dangerous,” remarked the boy who had opened the door, scrutinizing her with unblinking hazel eyes. He looked about her age, fourteen.

“I’m aware.”

“Good.”

“Yes. Anyway, is this Mrs. Harris’s millinery shop?” Gemma asked in her most professional voice.

“As far as you’re concerned.”

This was starting to be unsettling. “I wish you’d be serious. I have a job here.”

“You certainly do.” The boy grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, down a hall and into a kitchen. A woman stood at the sink washing glass bottles.

“Are you Mrs. Harris?”

The woman smiled sweetly. “You must be Gemma. No, we made her up.”

“You what?” Gemma tried to jerk away, anxious to leave this strange house and stranger situation. But the boy was still holding onto her hand with a tight grip.

The woman tilted her head toward him. “This is Gladiolus, my nephew. And apprentice. We’ve been terribly busy lately – surplus of demand – hence the advertisement. I’m the Purveyor of Practical Magicks for the Aqueous Caravan, Reasonably Priced. But you can call me Aunt Isadora.”

Gemma stared. “I – I don’t think –”

“Oh!” Gladiolus pointed to a clock hanging on the wall. “It’s time!”

“You’re right,” his aunt agreed. She picked up a satchel and began to pack the bottles inside. “Take Gemma with you.”

Gladiolus took the satchel and pulled Gemma back down the hall and out the door. They hurried down a dirt path that branched off from the yard.

“Let me go,” Gemma panted, trying unsuccessfully to extricate her hand from Gladiolus’s. “This is ridiculous. Magic isn’t real!”

“Oh, no?” The boy stopped at a short, ivy-covered stone fence. It enclosed a small round pool, the water unusually dark blue. “Explain dragons.”

“They don’t exist.”

Gladiolus looked at her strangely. “You really think that?”

“Of course.”

They stared at each other for a moment, before Gladiolus shrugged and climbed over the wall, finally letting Gemma go. “Help me fill these bottles up.”

Gemma rolled her eyes and began to stomp away.

A ruby-colored dragon dropped out of the sky in front of her.

“What are you doing at my pool?” he hissed, flames flickering around his nostrils.

“Oh, good grief,” sighed Gladiolus. “Again? We’ve been over this. We have a deal. We pay you rent.”

The dragon paused, looking as foolish as an elephant-sized dragon can. “Harrumph!” he grumbled. “In that case…” Then he turned and flew back into the sky.

“Well?” asked Gladiolus. “Do you believe in magic now?”

Gemma stared up at the tiny red speck of the dragon. “This,” she said slowly, “is going to be a very interesting job.”

Mirror of the Earth

A deep pool of magic water, a whole town of lucky people, and a girl who sat watching it daily. This story is for the hopeless.

The pool sat smack in the middle of town, in the moss-covered ruins of the oldest building in town. No one knew where it came from, or when it did, yet they knew how to use it.

It all started when the local fisherman attempted to fish in the hole. Instead of hooking onto a fish like he had thought he had, he instead hooked it onto a rock at the bottom and was then pulled in. He returned wet but with shining eyes, claiming to have gone to a world where he was a wealthy businessman. The people laughed, but not for long. Some tried to make fun of this fisherman for his antics by attempting to swim in the pool, yet they themselves ended up going to such worlds and gaining such rewards.

Soon everyone knew about and used it daily. All save her. Jane Greene was nick-named “Loony Jane” by the townspeople. You see, every day she sat at the pool’s edge staring with wonder into it yet never daring to touch it while others jumped in.

They all left her alone, mainly talking about her behind her back, until one day someone decided to change that.

The little child timidly crept towards Jane, who crouched by the pool that morning. “Loon-Miss Jane,” he thought it wise not to offend her before receiving his answer, “a few friends and I were wondering why you sit there without jumping in like the rest of the adults.”

The girl smiled and beckoned for the child to come closer. “Look, what do you see?”

“Water.” The child frowned. What was so remarkable about water?

“Nothing else?”

“Well, I see the sky. And…and the tops of the trees!” Wonder crept into the child’s voice. “Oh, they’re like a painting!”

Jane clapped with joy, “Yes! Exactly. Aren’t they beautiful?”

The child cocked his head. “Don’t we see them every day, though?”

“Well of course, but we often forget they’re there. We forget how beautiful they are. This pool may hold riches for others, but those are temporary. I’d much rather use it as a mirror, to see what I already have. What many of us grown-ups have forgotten to see. There’s still beauty in this world, no matter how cruel it may be. Sometimes, the water even shows us the world in a different light.”

“I see.” The child’s eyes brightened.

Jane smiled. She knew that children often saw things that adults overlooked.

“Can I…can I stay a little more?” The child asked gingerly.

Jane nodded. “Of course.”

She scooched over and made a cozy spot for the child who sat and peered into the clear water. The child was the first of many to begin to see more clearly. I can testify that no one laughs at Jane Greene any longer.

The Future We Have

Liria Grey never set so much as a foot beyond the castle walls. At least that is what she told her parents when they questioned where she went for hours at a time. The truth was the exact opposite.

Liria had perfected the art of escape. She left or reentered the castle in the brief window where the new guards replaced the old and then only via the wizened oak whose graceful branches touched her window. Then she danced into the freedom of the forest, delight coursing through her at the thought of who she would find in there.

For years the Magicfolk were forced to hide, cloaked in the corners of maps and the outskirts of towns thanks to the decree of the king. Though they were rare, you could spot Magicfolk if you searched long enough and Liria had had all the time in the world.

She traversed through the foliage and into the heart of the forest where she found the thatched cottage that had been their meeting place for the last month. In the backyard of the rundown cottage was the pool. Perfectly round, unnaturally so and about two metres deep. This pool connected every spring and river in the kingdom. Liria searched the surface.
“Tassa? It’s me. Are you there?” she whispered. The water bubbled gently like a pot on a stove. Within seconds Tassa emerges. A girl, made completely out of waves of water. The lights sifting through the trees turned her into a rainbow of reflecting colours as they did with all Nyads.
“Did you bring it?” Sweet excitement filled her voice. Liria rummaged through her bag and retrieved the book. It was ancient, older than the castle and those within it, its leather covers thin with age, but to Tassa and Liria it was a treasure of unspeakable worth. This book contained the history of both their people. A history lost long ago.
Holding herself together Tassa asked, “Would you please read it to me?”
“Of course.” Liria smiled.

And so it began, Liria would trek through the forest everyday and read to Tassa. Together they learnt of both Magicfolk and humans, of The Forgotten War they fought against one another and the eventual separation. On the last day, when there was one page left, Liria noticed the yellowed sheets of parchment stuffed at the back of the book. Curious, Tassa asked what they were. As Liria read the scrolls true nature was unveiled. They spoke of a promise, a small sweet promise of peace, of a future where the constant fear would cease.

Now dear one you must be wondering how this peace would come about. How two warring races could be united under one flag, one name? Well the truth is it took two people, two people kind and wise, two people who understood each other for who they truly were.
How did they bring peace, you say?
Not with swords, nor with arrows or spears.
Instead they fought with their hearts.
The greatest tool for a future of peace is kindness.
And that future is now.

“Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or a secret gate.”

– J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Write & Shine