I had told myself that I wasn’t going to write today. Why? Because I lost a short writing competition, again. So I have been wallowing in a mud pile of self-pity since I received the email telling me I didn’t make it. I know that I’m not the only one writing pieces for these competitions. I did, however, have really high hopes for this piece. Especially since I am trying to get a book deal, I know that it would give me quite a boost to get recognition with something like this. I have copied my short story below. Feel free to give me your thoughts and feedback.
Shadows Over the Moon
I kept walking, with my head down to stave off the cold. My fingers were purple and stiff. I was afraid of folding them for fear that I would lose pieces to the wind. I had no idea where I was going, only that I had been thrown out. My tears froze on my face and I could remove them as icicles. If only I was close to my family, but they had sent me to that house to serve. They needed the money. Besides, with a growing belly I would not only be a shame but a burden.
The wind picked up as if it too wanted to condemn me. As if it had the right to judge me. I cried harder and fell on the ground. Now I was not only cold, I was wet. I closed my eyes and thought how cruel it was to die this way, alone on a street that I had walked every day to go buy bread for the ingrates that had put me out in it tonight.
I heard the howl of a wolf and looked up to find its shadow on the moon. My stomach released itself and a light went on in the house to the right. “Help,” I yelled, although it appeared to be a whisper. The wind lowered its force and twice more I said it. I heard voices, footsteps, and I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Stiff as bark, I was picked up and carried away, one of my arms instinctively protecting the bastard that I did not want to keep.
**** I hope you enjoyed reading this. And although, I have been feeling sorry for myself, I will only continue writing. Many of the greats struggled to get their start, right?