1. Cherry Blossom (Magical Realism)

   By Jane Deppa

   The clock struck three and the visitor calculated he had half an hour as he strode towards the sugary pink avenue. His pace was pulled slower by the richness of the air, his senses overwhelmed with candyfloss sweetness. As his mind crept off to his schedule, petals swirled and funnelled upwards like a soft pink blizzard. He stood suddenly motionless as the sight absorbed him, and the gauzy petals whispered back down onto the trees. Cherry Blossom didn’t last long, but he hadn’t known he could stop this moment slipping away just by standing and noticing. The clock struck three.

2. The Prospector’s Guilt (Western)

   By Dave Bradley

   "Amon asked for you alive,” I tipped my hat. “He didn't say unharmed."

   That was when Finn started begging.

   At dusk I scrubbed blood off in the trough. The coral was a dark tumour on a red landscape. Smoke from Canyonville dirtied the horizon.

   "You read scripture?" I said. "You should go to church. The Bible’s all about bargains. Cheat the Big Man, you’ve got hellfire coming!”

   Finn whimpered something. Might have been the location of the gold. Might have been a prayer.

   I grabbed the branding iron again. “Well, Amon’s the closest thing to God around here.”

3. Poltergeist (Paranormal)

   By Molly Andrew

   There is a poltergeist in my house. It knocks over glasses and runs down the hallway. The little laughs are a child’s, a happy child’s. I remember that sound so well.

   I leave cookies out for the poltergeist as if it is an infant Santa. The presence alone is the gift for me, footprints on the lawn the size of a little boy’s shoes, the shoes I still have by the backdoor.

   At night I can hear the voice, soft as a whistle in the wind:

   Will you read me a story, Mummy?

   I knew he’d come back to me.

4. The Air Raid Shelter (Historical)

   By Amanda Hurley

   Sirens pierced the silent night and Pieter rose, half-awake, from his bed. It was a weary parade that stumbled to the shelter; a child draped in a blanket still warm with sleep, her mother too tired to be afraid. His breath hanging like crystal in the icy night, Pieter stopped. The stars seemed to beckon to him, a spray of diamonds scattered on a jeweller’s tray, as if he could choose one at random as a gift. Suddenly the stars fused into airplanes, coming steadily closer, and the night’s curtains were rudely ripped apart by a wave of falling bombs.

5. Dispatch (Fantasy)

   By Milton Parraga

   “You shall be named Kierkegaard.” From the final fold, a hummingbird ascended from his hands. The bird flapped its paper wings, flashing the duality of its colors. Magenta. Ivory. Soren opened the window of his chamber. “Find the rest. Tell Madeleine where I am.”  The bird took flight and soared through the open window.

   Kierkegaard sailed across the oceans. When it finally reached Madeleine, the paper bird disintegrated in her hands. Out of her bag, she gathered The Necromancy Book of Origami. Madeleine selected sapphire paper and began to fold. “You shall be named Seneca.”

   “Soren. I’m coming my love.”

6. Road trip (Romance)

   By Jean Cooper Moran

   On the journey North I drive carefully, conscious of your pain.  You love to travel and pay the price with gladness, making five words your mantra: “I can still do this.”

        The snowbound cities’ medieval cobbles are dangerous for you; we never stay long.  Until Copenhagen.

   We roll down Nyhaven’s perilous passages where fretted shadows of ships’ rigging are lying, shifting, on the dark, glittering canal.

        Leaving the city, we seek your freedom. On the ice sheet off Starholmen I let the wheelchair go. You spin around, laughing, tipping your head back to the whirling stars.  

The group chose ‘The Prospector’s Guilt’ as their favourite! Congratulations to Dave Bradley!