Carol Stewart

“There's an Ick in Wicked, Right Guys?” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #277

Never let it be said that I wasn’t right behind her when she landed the role of Dot. I’d celebrated too, not that anyone noticed, for having returned from signing the contract, she was so lit up that, of course, it was she who commanded all the attention. But the victory stir was as mine as well, and before the champagne could be sent for, and the fans and Paparazzi arrived, and the corks began to pop, I’d already leapt up onto the sofa and made those Tik-Tok-tastic body-rolls, throwing my arms so high and wide, it had sent the spiders scutt...

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“In Absentia” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #277

Beyond the part-demolished, boarded-window disused mills, the weed-strewn patch of land for sale, and the two remaining soot-suffused, red refractory chimneys, the evening clouds are low. They bubble up behind the road-bridge like the mousse of peach champagne. Trees on either side spark the river deep-alive with tall reflections, whilst down the grassy bank on a trail that leads between the heavily scented pines, a man and boy make their way to the water’s edge. The child runs ahead, picks up and skims a stone, its bounce across the surface...

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“There'll be Another One Along in a Minute” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #276

I was in Princes Street, Edinburgh when I met him.‘Hello,’ he said, ‘Are you waiting on a bus?’And there was me thinking I was playing Sudoku with the numbers on the overhead sign.‘Oh, shoot, oh no, what am I saying? Of course you are, I’m sorry.’Well, wasn’t he the perfect little mannerly gent in his private school blazer and tie? And was that a ‘Vote Conservative’ badge on his lapel? Oh my god, another Colin…Little Colin ------- windsor-knotted uptight, leather briefcase in hand and forever quoting Maggie Thatcher. In fact, in those last f...

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“Did We Ever Think to Flip the Record?” by Carol Stewart

The town I was born and raised in is one of two halves; the flatland to the south of the river and the hill on the other side. An on-off friend I had in my formative years (I'll call her Aubrey) once remarked that the further up the town people lived the more well-to-do they were, and although we were barely thirteen when she said it - and in the slyest and snidest of tones for her house was two streets above mine - if truth be told, she wasn’t far off the mark.Small town, small minds, about sums it up, for whenever I hear of the various cli...

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“A Pocketful of Glowsticks” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #275

CW: references to drug use/death and attempted child abduction, strong language throughout.With a backward swing of his rucksack, and a purposeful length of stride, Jez Laurie got off the twenty past midnight bus. Lights out behind him and a grudged cheerio from the world-weary driver who thought he knew him from somewhere and had spent much of the two-hour journey grumbling about the state of the nation and a mix of personal and work-related matters. Was it even worth the company’s while to have him carry a single passenger? Did the overtim...

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“A Jackson Pollock Splattered Milestone” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #274

In a few weeks’ time, you, my dear Centurio, will reach maturity. The second quarter, the silver phase, except we’re being practical here, so let’s call it steel. C21 25 - you could mark that on the handle of a spoon, a ladle, a workman’s tool. Or should that be work-person? No matter, I digress. The branding for now – and I do mean for now – is almost entirely human so do feel free to incorporate it into your latest sheep-in-wolf’s-clothing tattoo, and howl at the moon all you will. As if so much hot air could balloon its celestial body ful...

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“Precious” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #274

*** Contains some strong language ***February 2014‘Mammy, I’m going to be a mammy.’Lynne was in the kitchen when the girls arrived.‘I’m sorry, Mum.’She’d been preparing veg for the sausage casserole. A winter warmer, a family favourite – enough to go round for her and Greg, and Ruby and Saphie and Jade. Would take about an hour, could be heated up if needs be, a pot full of potatoes just in case; Greg and Jade often ate on the hoof, and Ruby and Saphie sometimes brought their boyfriends back. The fiancé now in Ruby’s case. She’d have to get...

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“Whatever Happened to Dazzer Adler, Silverback Star of Stage and Screen?” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #273

Don’t know why I thought of you then, as I slid along the pew. Not a guest as such, but a stand-in, Lisa’s replacement plus-one in light of her recent split from her partner. She couldn't possibly not attend, her being second cousin to the bride. But don’t flatter yourself that my thinking of you was in any way romantic – or the opposite, come to that - and it wasn’t because Lisa served as a reminder either. Good friends since college (acting school, if you like) we often touched based, but didn’t normally meet up in church. So, I guess it w...

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“The Trouble with Being a Kindly Spirit” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #272

*** TW: death by sky-diving ***No rest for the wicked? You’re having a laugh. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt since (quite literally) crash-landing on the ‘other side of life’ so to speak, it’s that while the truly evil spirits might have their work cut out when it comes to the number of guest appearances they’re obliged to make in the minds of the living (and which, let’s face it, only serves to boost their already over-inflated egos) it’s rarely the case that us run-of-the-mill, inherently good, peace-loving souls are compensated in kind....

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“A Bitter Blend” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #271

***TW Mentions of child loss, infertility***Hat or glasses? Tough decision. Couldn’t wear both. Looked about a hundred years old… Still got it, girl…? Not like this! Outdoor conditions, in spite of the onset of winter, weren’t too adverse yet, so the glasses would have been more practical. But my new white angora slouch beanie… Ah! So soft and gorgeous… It went so well with my white zip-up jacket and snow-boots, those black fleece-lined leggings which lifted and shaped and sculpted and trimmed and controlled.A backdrop flurry of snow, blonde...

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“In Comes The Bogeyman” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #270

Granny’s in the kitchen doing a little stitching, in comes The Bogeyman and pushes Granny out…Needle in hand, workbox on the table, Adeline Cruikshank - Ads to her friends – recalled the old skipping rhyme of her schooldays. Hazel and Ruth - polio victims so it was always them - rope stretched between them, turning it up and over the pigtailed head of whoever’s ‘go’ it happened to be. Whoosh, skiff, whoosh skiff, fifteen jumped beats. White knee-high socks and buckle-my-gravel-scuffed-shoe, grey-pleated skirt a-swishing, till the word was ‘o...

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“Doll” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #269

On the bric-a-brac shelf / of a nineties’ charity shop / a doll, feet glued to a wooden box…Three lines in, and after a good deal of jiggery-pokery to centre them just so, I turn away from the screen, unsure of whether to grimace or grin, or if, indeed, there’s any point to my adopting either expression. The doll about which I’m writing, and whose shape I had hoped to recreate in the form of a calligram (Oh yes, I can do that, no problem, Mister Writers’ Group Task-Setter, Sir, I can attempt to rival George Herbert’s ‘The Altar’) will smile ...

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“Sponsored Silence” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #268

For all she'd insisted on a quiet companion, she was far from docile herself. Even when his eyes were closed, her words flew towards him like arrows; pink, shocking, feathery tales with no end. A boa to be sneezed at or...‘He tried to strangle me, you know. And he tried to drown me in a bucket…’Wait… Who was she jabbering on about now…? The bully-boy brother or her teenage crush from fifty odd years back who’d had a fancy for her really… Like they all did, apparently… He guessed she must have had money then too…Whoosh… How long the journey n...

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“Getting Away from It All” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #267

***references to outdated attitudes - homophobia, racial - veiled references to self harm and eating disorder - strong language***Sam had been tracking the girl’s movements for a while. Not obsessively so, that would have made it all too obvious, but through a combination of social media and word of mouth –eavesdropping mainly – it had been easy enough to find and pick her out, approach her if and when he decided that was what he wanted to do. However, when he first came across her, encountered her face-to-face as opposed to through some sho...

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“The Right Thing to Say” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #266

The cogs were turning, that was for sure. She’d serrated the edges of her doodled flowers and had begun to fill in the gaps in between. One great black swirl of ink after another. The words would come soon. They always did. And this time they simply had to…Trust me, trust the method…Okay, so that was a start, the kick up the butt Gertrude felt she needed scrawled diagonally across the lines of the facing page. But what next? Swirl round some more, add a spear-headed arrow…Can’t get over this… but it’s not about me… It’s Sandra who’s lost her...

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