Tag: competitions

By Nicola Pritchard-Pink

SECOND PLACE in October 2026 Competition

We start our night walk side-by-side, Caroline and I. As we step into the monochrome landscape, I can just make out a dull silver line across the field through the gloaming. It marks the crushed grass of the footpath leading up towards a thick dark band of charcoal-coloured trees. Either side of the path is a frozen ocean of long grey-hued grass. Wells and dips of inky shadow contrast with splashes of white at the grass tips, making the uneven and rough field resemble waves caught in a black-and-white photograph. Only the trackway slices smoothly through it.

As we walk on through the blankness, my fingertips thrill from the ocean of sound I find myself in. Short whistling bursts of crickets come from left and right, in front and behind, surrounding me with a sonic background like radio static. Without the distraction of colour and depth, my hearing attunes to every element of the night soundscape, from the low, leafy rustlings of tiny animals to the faint susurration of distant trees, all helping me navigate through the claggy light.

Caroline wanders a little ahead. I can barely make out her silhouette against the woods, and she appears to merge and disappear into the landscape, as if she were being absorbed into the very trees. I know why, though. The night offers her a space of self-dissolution, of nothingness and everythingness, away from her cares where no-one is judged and everyone is held.

I glance up. The indigo hue is slowly deepening into obsidian, and I realise with a brief flicker of fear I should speed up or risk losing myself here.

I stumble awkwardly after her. She is waiting for me at the wooden gate under the coal-black branches. I once more walk beside her in companionable silence as we disappear like spectres through the dark wildflower meadow, swimming once more in the sound of crickets.

Judges’ Comments: This piece immediately pulls us into the darkness of the night, with its quietude of monochromatic descriptions coupled with the vastness of its oceanic sounds. The scene provides a profound invitation into “self-dissolution”, where the self melts into the landscape – and both the freedom and fear that awaits within that, if we’re willing to let ourselves go.

By Ryan Keogan

FIRST PLACE in the October 2026 Competition

I feel one with my family, together.

There’s movement building. Shoulder to shoulder. Everyone gets ready. For what? Nobody knows. We crowd round, close enough to blur. A big, dark-grey mass.

I feel my siblings go. The air below me is free. There’s nothing holding me anymore. I have to go. It’s building.

I get released with a drop along with thousands of my relations. We are all racing to meet the dark. It’s getting closer and closer. There are other gatherings around us. We are not alone. My brothers and sisters will follow after me.

The speed at which the black below me is coming to meet me feels like it’s getting faster. The wind threatens to send me sideways, but I am too heavy to be persuaded. I’m falling, flying, head first.

The floor isn’t as black as I thought.

I can make out colours now. Green.

The green has shades, a texture, it is the colour of something, not just a flat block. I try to make myself faster, to beat those around me, to be the first to reach the green.

I see those before me hit hard against the ground, gathering again in masses, in groups. They fill whatever they can. I will try to aim for one of those. Others are streaming down the sides of black shapes.

I’m nearly there.

I instinctively brace for impact, but I wouldn’t have dropped if I couldn’t survive the fall.

The thundering of drums rush to meet my ears. We are hitting everything.

The shapes become clear as I hit the side of a tent. I crawl down. I spot a pool of family and head for there.

I look in at another family, a different type of family, as I slide down their window. They sit around inside the tent, passing shapes between themselves, smiling.

I roll down and meet the others, and we gather again in our own little space on the floor.

Judges’ comments: Shifting the perspective to the raindrop for this scene was so delightfully surprising! There’s such a sense of dynamic movement, anticipation, kinship, interconnectedness through the piece. The mirrored metaphor of ‘family’ for both the rain and the humans helps take the reader into a feeling that’s new and exciting, inviting us into a perspective we’ve likely never considered before and stays with us long after we’ve read the final word.