The Foolish Gardener

by Erica Ward

“There’s no fool…” 

Doreen shook her head, dismissing the sentence’s depressing denouement.

Her shovel thumped the heavy earth, building to rhythmic efficiency. The ground would soon be ready.

“…like an old…”

She’d bought the wrong plants at the garden centre earlier, and Raymond wouldn’t let it go. Eventually, she’d volunteered to go back and swap them. Anything to shut him up.

“We didn’t need a bloody great shovel for some tiny plants, Doreen! Like they say, there’s no fool like an old…”

Doreen swung the shovel, finishing his sentence with grim satisfaction as Raymond sprawled untidily across the tiles.

“Fool!”

Where Angels Fear to Tread

by Mikayla Hill

Angel toed the pebbled shoreline of the forest pond. She feared the dark, still pool.

“Are you certain it’s safe to swim here?”

Rodney just laughed. He stripped off his shirt, shorts following quickly.

“It’s fine, I’ll show you.”

When only his underwear remained, he grinned at Angel, his green eyes as wild as the woods. 

His joyous laugh echoed through the air as he rushed toward the pond and dove into the water with a mighty splash.

The water settled, and the ripples cleared, but he did not resurface.

Angel waited, counting the seconds, the minutes. 

He was gone.

Love is a Game Played by Fools

by Melanie Mulrooney

My lying, cheating excuse of a husband is dead on the floor. I nudge him with my boot, to be sure.

I could pretend I wasn’t tryin’ to murder his scrawny, ignorant ass when I swung the bat, but that’d be a lie, and I have lost my taste for bullshit. 

There’s red lipstick smeared by his ear. Funny how it matches the blood at his temple. He shoulda tried harder to hide what he was doin’. Red never was my colour.

My sister will be here soon—I texted from his phone. 

That woman always did like wearin’ red.

A World of Love-Lost Fools

by David Haworth 

He was new to this, never held a bow before; but the power, the promise, the potential to do good, excited him. Wouldn’t anyone get carried away? 

Arrows shot at random, scatter-pitter-patter-gun, raining down from the heavens, bringing infatuation to all hearts they pierced. 

Just like Titania and the ass, with the slightest nudge, anyone can find love for any thing.

The little cherub’s mistake, albeit fired with best intentions, was to create a world of hopeless romance; women smitten with kittens, men besotted with clotted cream or a ceiling rose, 

Glorious, passionate, doomed, impossible love.

Cupid slapped his forehead.

Fools out of lovers

by Nimisha Kantharia 

She, almond eyes kohl-rimmed, silver balis dangling from her ears.

"One full-scape sheet, please."

He, a stationer from the east, desperate to impress this South Indian beauty. 

"It's actually fool's cap."

English is her second language. She flushes warm, replies coldly.

"Is it?"

He, captivated by the pretty pink bloom on her cheeks, fails to notice her embarrassment, presses on with his explanation.

English. 

The language that united their diverse nation.

The only language they have in common. 

English. The language that destroyed their love story before it even began.

The language that makes fools out of lovers.

The Kite

by Anne-Marie Kofoed

Melvin reaches for another branch, he hoists himself higher. 

“Those spaghetti arms won’t help you,” Ricky shouts from below, the group around him collapses in a fit of laughter. 

Just one more branch and the kite is within reach, Melvin’s fingers grasp the torn paper, freeing it, and aim it at the ground. 

He looks down and sees the boys leap around the kite, Ricky’s boot breaks the sticks. “You’re a fool, Melvin.” 

The shout stabs Melvin’s heart and tears trickle down his face. 

“Why did I even try?” Melvin whispers as he slips down the tree.

Fool for Love

by Robert Burns

“She’s using you,” Serrano told his buddy. “Can’t you see that?”

“Oh, I know.” Alvie gently blew the steam across the rim of his coffee cup. “Everybody knows.”

The all-night diner was deserted at that hour, except for those two perched at the counter.

“Why do you keep seeing her?”

“I love Miriam.”

“She doesn’t love you.”

“No. I suppose not.” Alvie studied his hands. “She’s out on a date tonight.”

Serrano said nothing and stirred his coffee, teaspoon tinkling alone in the silence. He snickered under his breath, remembering Miriam’s soft lips, hot on his earlobe, spilling secrets.

Fool’s Gold Creek

by Joanne Deluce

The bear watches intently from the treeline as the winter sun sets behind white-capped mountains. Ice-cold wind, snowfall, and the two cubs roughhousing at her feet cannot detract from her singular focus; the animal man has strayed far from his den. Thirty paces away, he’s searching for something in the creek bed, swishing and swirling with a golden glint in his eye. Instinctively, she gauges risk versus reward. Food versus hunger. Life versus death. 

Decision made; she bounds towards the fool. The riverbank’s blanket of powder-fresh snow silences her footfalls.

Both of her cubs will survive this year.

My Shadow

by Felipe Orlans

My shadow is a fool. He dances when he thinks no one is watching, but I see. 

He stretches far in the moonlight, but hides shyly in the crowded light of day.

When twilight comes, I see him in the wall’s cracked plaster; he is older now. He stands at the window, as time whispers its passing, showing neither sorrow nor rage at ambitions unfulfilled. Did he love, and was he loved? Is his life not a mere shadow of a shade? Yet he will dance to tomorrow’s dawn.

My shadow is a fool – not I.

A Spark, Maybe

by Kai Delmas

He was a paper salesman. She was a baker. They had nothing in common.

They went to the movies. Then to dinner. She told some jokes and he laughed. Maybe there was something there. Not fireworks. But something. A spark? Maybe.

He met her parents. They thought he wasn't good enough.

She met his friends. They didn't think she was funny.

Everyone said they weren't a good match. None saw what they saw. They called them fools.

He agreed.

He was a fool in love and had already bought a ring.

She was a fool as well and said yes.

The Prize-Winning Delphiniums

by Lin Whitehouse

The first flush of an illicit affair stole his appetite; the newly divorced neighbour suffers identical symptoms. 

His wife layers cooked apple, sponge fingers and vanilla custard into small pots, a week’s worth. Decorates them with chopped hazelnuts, delphinium seeds, and grated dark chocolate. She knows he can’t resist a fool, thinks that’s why he stays with her. 

She has a keen interest in gardening, needs to buy more Delphinium seeds, Pink Punch or Black Knight? She wonders if the poisonous seeds will eventually kill him; decides to make her neighbour a casserole to tempt her from starvation.

King of Thailand

by Terri Mertz

The hardest thing to surrender was the temple rubbing you made—hours spent in Bangkok at The Temple of Dawn with rice paper and pointed chalk, sweating profusely as the tropical sun beat down. But everyone remarked on the beauty of the delicate rendering: His Majesty floating down the Chao Phrya River in the Royal Barge. The decision to abandon it was heart-wrenching.

Like a fool, you thought it wouldn't matter, but the next week when the King of Thailand died, you knew it was because you hadn't kept your promise to never leave it behind.

Gift

by James Hancock

“Twenty-five feet tall.  How did you miss it?”

“I’m sorry, captain.  I heard noises, but it was dark and...”

“You left your post.”

“No sir.  We watched from the wall, and it seemed to just appear.”

“The same story from every guard.  We’ll look into your failings later.”

“What is it, sir?  A peace offering?”

“Is it not obvious?  The craftsmanship is beyond mortal hands.  This great beast is the emblem of Troy and must be a reward from the gods.”

“Shall I organise having it wheeled into the city?”

“Yes.  Only a fool would ignore such a gift.”

Fools Rush In

by Gabrielle Josephine Lewis

Forget falling, I’m flying in love

Though not mourning, I’m dying for love

Not the humdrum, mundane kind,

The white-hot heartbreak kind

I’m falling and flying in love 

I’m falling and flying in love 

Though uncertain, I’m clinging to love

If I stand, I’ll stand tall 

If I fall, I’ll bear all 

Forget falling, I’m flying in love

What Do They Know?

by Donna Mcghie

He expertly loads the sponge, and leans closer to the mirror to apply the thick cakey substance.  

Initially his pores gape through the white.  

They remind him of those strange holes you see in the sand at high tide.  

“Razor clams,” he mutters to himself as he keeps on dabbing to cover them up.

Then he picks up his brush, dips it into the water and swirls it around the red paint.

He outlines his smile even though he knows no-one will come to see him.

“Fools,” he sighs to himself.

What do they know of art?

The judges chose ‘The Foolish Gardener’ as their favourite. Congratulations, Erica Ward!

The judges chose ‘A Spark, Maybe’ as the runner up. Congratulations, Kai Delmas!