What a great turn out for week two! Love the diversity of stories you brought us!
The writers in order of appearance:
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- Silver James | @SilverJames_
- Charley | @lindorfan
- Lisa Shambrook | @LastKrystallos
- Rafe Bronx | @etcet
- Aightball | @Aightball
- Mark Ethridge | @LurchMunster
Soldier (Honorable Mention) Siobhan Muir | @siobhanmuir
- Cara Says: Aislinn’s serenity is beautiful in this moment, as is Chayse’s gradual transition to trust.
- Ruth Says: I love the deft blend of humor and tension in this story!
Underboss (2nd place) Mark Ethridge | @lurchmunster
- Cara Says: Incorporating more of this week’s song really worked for this tale of a disconnected soul.
- Ruth Says: I totally second that! I love how skillfully and achingly this lost soul was written and how Mark used the dual themes of ‘hanging by a thread’ and ‘a thread of hope.’
Boss (1st place) Lisa Shambrook | @LastKrystallos
- Cara Says: Such a sweet story, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. As a huge fan of the Doctor, I read this one twice. The second time, just to absorb all those little Doctor-moments. And finally! He’s a ginger!
- Ruth Says: The wonder and adventure swept me away and all the loving little Doctor references, they tipped the scales. Simply lovely!
Lisa’s Winning Story
My mouth curls upwards, unconsciously. Excitement pounds within my heart and my legs wobble, just for a moment.
“Are you coming?” he calls, turning back. His eyes pierce me; they’re green, as green as a peridot gemstone, and just as glistening.
Again, for a moment, I can’t speak. I just stand and gaze. He grins back, a boyish smile in a face that defies years, but speaks of youth and adventure. My heart slams against my ribs.
“Yes,” I whisper, as he fidgets and sweeps a hand through his auburn hair. The light, flashing behind him lights up his silhouette giving him a halo. I giggle. “Yes, I’m coming!”
I pull my wibbly legs together and set off after him, at a run to keep up. His stride lengthens and my heart leaps as my feet thump the pavement.
His coat flows like a cape, like a long gothic cloak, and for another moment, I imagine a deerstalker on his head, but no, this is not Sherlock…and I am not Watson.
His boots, buckled and studded, rap on the ground and I catch up. He turns to me again, not missing a step as I stumble beneath his gaze.
“You’re good with this?” he asks, that twinkle seeping into my very soul.
I nod. “Oh, yes, I’m good with this!” I reply.
Pale freckles, saturated by lamplight, dance upon his cheeks, across his nose, and I can barely restrain myself from reaching up and pushing his red hair out of his eyes. He shakes his hair away from his face.
“So,” he pauses, literally, and I almost run into him. “When did you know?”
“Kn-know what?” I stammer.
“When did you know you were coming with me?” His eyes search mine and I lower my face, staring at my shoes. His hand immediately lifts my chin and I cannot help but stare into those eyes. If I didn’t know already, then this would be the moment! I cannot speak, my tongue is lost, and my heart threatens to explode from my chest.
“Secretly, I think you knew when we had lunch, that first day…” he grins.
And he’s right. My mind scrolls back, to the day we’d run, so much running, but we’d stopped to eat, finally famished.
I nod. “The fish fingers and custard did it for me!” I smile.
He cocks his head and stares deeply into my eyes then let’s go of my face and chuckles. “Yep, that’s often the moment!” Then he’s gone, again, striding ahead.
“Doctor!” I call, “Wait for me…”
My heart is yet again in my mouth as I round the corner and there he is, leaning against the doorway of the blue box, pooled in white light and promises of adventure…
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