Prose
First Prize:
Changing the rules
The knife slipped. Unbidden, a curse slid out from between her lips as the blade sliced through the fleshy pad of her thumb. The skin parted, shocked and pink for a second before the deep red welled into the cut, overflowing into molten crimson beads which hopped down her arm to leave a glistening trail on her dusty skin.
The curse she had spoken rolled on her tongue, its unfamiliar taste both satisfying and incriminating. Not daring to breathe, she glanced sideways to see if anyone had heard. Through the frayed edge of her hat she saw her mother’s thin shadow moving through trees on the far side of the orchard. Relieved, her panic subsided, allowing the heartbeat of pain to crawl, throbbing, into the wound.
She said the word again, clearly and deliberately this time, irritated by the stinging and her carelessness.
A hand fell on her shoulder from behind and turned her round.
“What was that you say, child?”
Her father’s eyes, dark and immediately furious, already confident that she should shrink under them. The same as always. It was easier to cower in the hope of some small mercy for the gesture.
But now the seductive metallic taste of the curse she had spoken lingered, burning hot in her mouth as defiance crept over her.
“I cut myself.”
She turned away from him towards the river at the bottom of the field. The sound of water and her heart mingled, thumping in her ears and drowning out the silence behind. Plunging her hand in the water, she let the current push into her sliced flesh, gasping as it tugged the wound open, rinsing the blood away in curling pink wisps. A stray breeze pushed her sweat-soaked shirt against her hot skin, a shiver of anticipation.
Katherine Fox lives in Belfast, not far from where she was born thirty years ago. She is currently on a break from her communications job with a national children’s charity and is using the time to work on various writing and artistic projects. Her short story, The Calling, was a finalist in the Orange Northern Woman Short Story Prize 2005, and is published in the anthology The Barefoot Nuns of Barcelona.
Runner Up:
Still Life
It was only a long time later that she found out he could draw. This was by his own admission, a detail let slip during one of their now infrequent conversations, and the surprise she felt was disproportionate. She had been aware of his artistic talents, certainly, but they were more theatrical ones that seemed in keeping with his exhibitionist personality. To her, drawing - which did not have the expansive connotations of painting or photography - seemed as if it should be a synecdoche for an altogether more fastidious, careful character.
But the real reason for her shock was that this was a reminder that she did not know everything about him. She had once prided herself on her ability to retain the most insignificant facts, not only experiences they had shared and things he had told her and expected her to remember, but details mentioned in passing that she would remember and brandish at a later date to secure the hold he had, willing or otherwise, over her. And that which she thought she had over him.
She had never maintained that such an attachment constituted ‘love’, but it had nevertheless dwarfed all other passions. Now she had been shown up as ignorant of a simple detail. The affection on which she had long counted was now shaded with bitterness, but a smug belief in her command of the minutiae of his existence had endured. She saw it fading.
WHY HAD HE NEVER DRAWN HER NAKED?
'Katherine Low is studying for a doctorate, specialising in Latin historiography, at the University of Oxford. For the year 2010/11 she is a visiting student in Paris, and living in this most literary of cities (as the cliché goes) has unleashed her long-hidden creative streak. She has dabbled in translation, contributed reviews and essays to several journals and is currently working on a full-length creative piece.'
Judge Bernard Lord’s summing up:
In judging the Segora Vignettes I am looking for a short, impressionistic scene that focuses on a precise moment or gives a particular insight into a character, idea or setting.
The detail may be uncovered in the choice of language and should evoke emotion in the reader; most of all it must stay in the mind. The choice of title is very important as it can act as a subtle echo.
Some of the submissions revealed what the piece was about in the title. Any good piece of writing, I find, is like unwrapping a present that has several layers of packing. Leave the best till last.
Two vignettes stood out immediately: Still Life and Changing the Rules. Both are well-focused, and making the final decision was a close call.
Ultimately I gave First Prize to Katherine Fox for Changing the Rules. I loved this glimpse into the subject’s life and the descriptions - the blood, initially called “the deep red” and appearing in two contrasting surroundings, one dry and one surrounded by water. I liked the movement of the curse and its taste. The tension was held superbly throughout.
Runner up is Katie Low with Still Life. This is a good example of a tightly- executed text with precise vocabulary. A little more punctuation would have elucidated for me the sentence beginning “ She had once prided herself . . .” Nonetheless I found this a most incisive and haunting word portrait.
Changing the rules
The knife slipped. Unbidden, a curse slid out from between her lips as the blade sliced through the fleshy pad of her thumb. The skin parted, shocked and pink for a second before the deep red welled into the cut, overflowing into molten crimson beads which hopped down her arm to leave a glistening trail on her dusty skin.
The curse she had spoken rolled on her tongue, its unfamiliar taste both satisfying and incriminating. Not daring to breathe, she glanced sideways to see if anyone had heard. Through the frayed edge of her hat she saw her mother’s thin shadow moving through trees on the far side of the orchard. Relieved, her panic subsided, allowing the heartbeat of pain to crawl, throbbing, into the wound.
She said the word again, clearly and deliberately this time, irritated by the stinging and her carelessness.
A hand fell on her shoulder from behind and turned her round.
“What was that you say, child?”
Her father’s eyes, dark and immediately furious, already confident that she should shrink under them. The same as always. It was easier to cower in the hope of some small mercy for the gesture.
But now the seductive metallic taste of the curse she had spoken lingered, burning hot in her mouth as defiance crept over her.
“I cut myself.”
She turned away from him towards the river at the bottom of the field. The sound of water and her heart mingled, thumping in her ears and drowning out the silence behind. Plunging her hand in the water, she let the current push into her sliced flesh, gasping as it tugged the wound open, rinsing the blood away in curling pink wisps. A stray breeze pushed her sweat-soaked shirt against her hot skin, a shiver of anticipation.
Katherine Fox lives in Belfast, not far from where she was born thirty years ago. She is currently on a break from her communications job with a national children’s charity and is using the time to work on various writing and artistic projects. Her short story, The Calling, was a finalist in the Orange Northern Woman Short Story Prize 2005, and is published in the anthology The Barefoot Nuns of Barcelona.
Runner Up:
Still Life
It was only a long time later that she found out he could draw. This was by his own admission, a detail let slip during one of their now infrequent conversations, and the surprise she felt was disproportionate. She had been aware of his artistic talents, certainly, but they were more theatrical ones that seemed in keeping with his exhibitionist personality. To her, drawing - which did not have the expansive connotations of painting or photography - seemed as if it should be a synecdoche for an altogether more fastidious, careful character.
But the real reason for her shock was that this was a reminder that she did not know everything about him. She had once prided herself on her ability to retain the most insignificant facts, not only experiences they had shared and things he had told her and expected her to remember, but details mentioned in passing that she would remember and brandish at a later date to secure the hold he had, willing or otherwise, over her. And that which she thought she had over him.
She had never maintained that such an attachment constituted ‘love’, but it had nevertheless dwarfed all other passions. Now she had been shown up as ignorant of a simple detail. The affection on which she had long counted was now shaded with bitterness, but a smug belief in her command of the minutiae of his existence had endured. She saw it fading.
WHY HAD HE NEVER DRAWN HER NAKED?
'Katherine Low is studying for a doctorate, specialising in Latin historiography, at the University of Oxford. For the year 2010/11 she is a visiting student in Paris, and living in this most literary of cities (as the cliché goes) has unleashed her long-hidden creative streak. She has dabbled in translation, contributed reviews and essays to several journals and is currently working on a full-length creative piece.'
Judge Bernard Lord’s summing up:
In judging the Segora Vignettes I am looking for a short, impressionistic scene that focuses on a precise moment or gives a particular insight into a character, idea or setting.
The detail may be uncovered in the choice of language and should evoke emotion in the reader; most of all it must stay in the mind. The choice of title is very important as it can act as a subtle echo.
Some of the submissions revealed what the piece was about in the title. Any good piece of writing, I find, is like unwrapping a present that has several layers of packing. Leave the best till last.
Two vignettes stood out immediately: Still Life and Changing the Rules. Both are well-focused, and making the final decision was a close call.
Ultimately I gave First Prize to Katherine Fox for Changing the Rules. I loved this glimpse into the subject’s life and the descriptions - the blood, initially called “the deep red” and appearing in two contrasting surroundings, one dry and one surrounded by water. I liked the movement of the curse and its taste. The tension was held superbly throughout.
Runner up is Katie Low with Still Life. This is a good example of a tightly- executed text with precise vocabulary. A little more punctuation would have elucidated for me the sentence beginning “ She had once prided herself . . .” Nonetheless I found this a most incisive and haunting word portrait.
Segrora 2011 Vignette Competition Winners
