August 31, 2012 | Thombrarian | Comments (4)
Over the summer, we on the Word Out team got to read some truly astounding writing, submitted to our Creative Writing Challenge. Some entries made us laugh out loud; some gave us pause. All were totally impressive however, and it was both a pleasure and a huge challenge to choose winners.
At first, we were only going to have one prize for the contest, but seeing how many submissions we got, we decided that we'd add two more. For the next few days, we're going to be sharing the winning entries with you. You can check out all of the amazing stories, poems and essays however, by visiting the Creative Writing Challenge page.
The last winner we will announce is Wolffur86, who is our grand prize winner for this summer's Creative Writing Challenge. Wolffur86's heartbreaking short story is based on postcard #2.
Sparrow trotted towards me. As usual, she stood up, wobbling slightly on her hind legs, and lightly set her paws on my paint chipped crossbar. I tipped obediently onto one side, leaning against the wooden fence. Just like before, she gently tested my tires, and spun the pedals, making sure the drive chain worked. But there was something about her eyes and the way she moved, that, even an old worn bike without brains like me, could tell something was wrong. She took a mighty leap and landed neatly onto my torn leather seat. She gripped my handlebars tightly with her paws. I turned my pedals. My wheels turned on the familiar gravel path, going faster and faster, the wind roared. Ah, how I loved to be ridden! Two wet drops fell onto my seat. Startled, I rang my bell twice, “Is it raining?” Sparrow didn’t answer. I rang my bell three times, then once, “What’s wrong, Sparrow?” She let out a sad sigh. I slowed, and then stopped. Where were we? Sparrow leaped down, and nuzzled my handle bars, “The flat-faces and I are leaving.” I rang in alarm, “Where?” “To a South Carolina,” she stared at the floor, “but you aren’t going with us.” “But why?” I was shocked, “I’ve been a part of this family as long as you!” “I know,” she stroke my front tire with her tail, “they didn’t want to bring along a…a piece of junk like you. T-they were going to throw you in the dump. This was the best I could do.” My heart split in two, “So this is goodbye?” “The animals will visit you.” “But it won’t be the same!” “I’m sorry,” Sparrow padded away. I watched sadly as she grew smaller and smaller, until I couldn’t see her anymore.