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Solstice Shorts E-Book

David Mathews

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Herausgeber: Arachne Press
Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
Sprache: Englisch
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

Sixteen short stories that chart the meaning of time, and explore what it can do to us, and for us. Broken hearts, lives lived on fastforward, missed chances, and catastrophic meetings on the road. Time stolen, time wasted, time captured and time lost. A warning from the past, a second that changes a life, a failed glimpse into the future and a study of funeral rites. Ready-made families, weekly liaisons, and an all-night radio show. From the First ever Solstice Shorts Festival originally read live in 2014 on the Greenwich Meridian, on the shortest day of the year, from sunrise to sunset.

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Leseprobe

SOLSTICE SHORTS

16 Stories About Time

Edited by

Alison Moore, Cherry Potts, Imogen Robertson, Anita Sethi, and Robert Shearman

Arachne Press

CONTENTS

Introduction: Solstice Shorts – Cherry Potts

The Largest Sundial in the World – Anita Sethi

Time Man – Dizz Tate

Stars – Emma Timpany

Measuring Time – Jayne Pickering

Grange Lodge – Imogen Robertson

With You Through the Night – Cindy George

Death and Other Rituals – Tannith Perry

Simultaneous – Robert Shearman

Wednesday Afternoon – David Mathews

Duration (4) – Andrew Gepp

A Few Minutes of Your Time – David Turnbull

A Month of Sundays – Alison Moore

I Thought I Had Time – Helen Morris

Stone Baby – Sarah Evans

If You Were a Train – William Davidson

Winter’s Evening in Békéscsaba – Pippa Gladhill

About the Authors

More from Arachne Press

Introduction: Solstice Shorts

Cherry Potts

The idea for the Solstice Shorts festival, came from my realisation in December 2013 (too late to do anything) that the shortest day of the year had been designated as Short Story Day.

I’ve celebrated the winter solstice for years (known as Wintermiddle in our house, in reference to a poem by Michael Rosen) and I love a hook on which to hang a book. My first thought was darn, the second was oh well, next year, and over the course of the Christmas festivities this mad idea took form – why not have an event on the solstice reading short stories? And then, because it is the shortest day, why not an all-day event, and why not start at sunrise and finish at sunset? And if that’s the case, why not on the Prime Meridian in Greenwich, just down the road? Why not indeed? Which (obviously!) meant that the theme had to be Time.

I tested the idea on a few people, all of whom shrieked with enthusiasm, and we started exploring what kind of event we could manage, and what kind of event it could be if it was funded.

Months passed in research, form filling, asking favours, software wrangling, serendipity, crowdfunding and finally we had a fully-formed, funded festival of short stories and folk music.

Of course, Arachne Press is a publishing house, not an events management company, so part of the deal was that there would be a book, and since we needed to find the stories to be read on the day, we decided to have a competition. Judges were surprisingly easy to find – not because they are two a penny as they are emphatically not – but because everyone I approached said yes or, if they were busy, suggested someone else. I actually had too many at one point. Having found such brilliant authors to judge the competition it seemed an unnmissable opportunity to invite them to contribute, which meant that the backbone of the book was already there.

We had 106 entries to the competition. These were whittled down to 31 by the whittling team, during a fevered day of argument and cross-referencing, and passed on to the judges for their final decisions. A two-hour conference call got us down to our final twelve.

I would like to say we settled on twelve in order to have one for each month of the year, or one for each hour on the clock, but it wouldn’t be true; it was entirely fortuitous that a story every half hour on the shortest day of the year (08:04 to 15:53), worked out to sixteen, and with four judges that left us twelve to find, but it pleased me to have such an appropriate number nonetheless.

Never having been on this side of the competition process before, I have learnt a great deal and read a lot of stories in a very short space of time. I hope we will do it again. I have been introduced to some very talented writers and found some delightful stories, and what better way to spend the dark days of winter than to curl up with a really satisfying book?

The Largest Sundial in the World

Anita Sethi

The car stopped as we became stuck in a football match traffic jam and I watched a red and white Manchester United scarf fluttering out of the window of the car beside me, flapping in the rain which started to plummet down, rapidly making the colours fade as if they were trickling out of the scarf, not really a permanent part of the scarf but liable to be lost in a downpour, as if the whole world might melt away at any moment. Dad’s voice tugged at me suddenly: ‘Roshni are you still there? Rosh, have you vanished?’ he teased.

A long time later, after waiting in the traffic jam until day turned into darkness, we arrived at our Grandmother Mamee’s house, which curved around a corner of Stretford, near to the Lancashire Cricket Ground and not far from the football stadium. Mamee lived above a corner shop, which she worked in every day, a corner shop with a small, wild overgrown garden behind it and a deep cellar full of ghosts and wine bottles beneath it and a patch of sky often thundering and crying above it.

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