WRITERS used their skills to go head to head in a competitiion to produce a work under the heading of “Arriving in Bridlington”.
It was a test of more than just creative skills for members of the newly formed Bridlington Library Writers Group.
Entrants in the “fun” competition were split into four groups of three and tasked with producing a short story of no more than 500 words in exactly an hour.
The results from the four groups were then finally judged by members of Bridlington Book Club.
Winners were Audrey Bemrose, Sue MacArthur and Vanessa Parry, you can read their short story below.
Organiser Sarah Hutchinson of Bridlington Central Library in King Street, where the group meet at 2pm on the first Friday of every month, said: “It was hard work, but it was enjoyable.”
The group, formed last October, now has 24 members.
“A different person takes each monthly session and sets homework which is to write up to 500 words on a particular topic.
“The next one is “Valentines”,” said Sarah.
A new off-shoot of the Group will be the launch of a Homeless Persons Readers Group at the beginning of February.
It will also meet at the library but at 11am on the first Friday of the month, starting on February 3.
Entry is free and refreshments are provided.
The meetings are free and will be led by Deirdre McGarry.
“It is all about sharing books with them and helping homeless people realise they can still use computers at the library and borrow books, all for free,” said Sarah.
Beckie kicked the driftwood as tears rolled down her face. It wasn’t fair! Why did she have to be in Brid when all her friends were back home?
It was never like this on the beach in summer when Mum and Dad helped her build sandcastles. Now even the gulls’ squawks sounded sad and the cold grey sea foamed angrily at her feet.
Granny had said Christmas would be great but how could it be when Mum was always crying and Dad wouldn’t be there. Dad could have made something wonderful out of this piece of driftwood, like the cat he carved for her last year. She longed to show him this new find.
Beckie stooped to pick up the driftwood. Maybe one day she’d see Dad again. She shivered as the wind whipped sand into her face.
Hailstones pelted from dark clouds, forcing her to hurry back to the house.
As she crept through the back door she heard Granny’s voice. “We’ll have a great Christmas without him.”
“It’ll serve him right,” said Mum as she turned on the fairy lights.
Cradling her driftwood and in no mood to listen to another argument Beckie sought refuge in her bedroom. Dad’s voice echoed in her head, “I’m going, anyway!”
She’d never heard Dad shout before. What had made him so angry? Christmas wouldn’t feel right without him. Was it her fault?
Just as Gran called, “Tea’s ready,” the doorbell rang. Beckie hid her treasured driftwood under the bed.
She heard the door opening, was that Dad’s voice saying, “Where’s my favourite girl?”
By the time Beckie got down stairs Mum and Dad were hugging.
“The business trip was cancelled,” Dad said. “There was a baggage strike at the airport.”
Beckie giggled as Dad swung her round and planted a kiss on her cheek.
Her Christmas wish granted, Beckie ran back upstairs to collect her driftwood.
“I’ve got the perfect present for you, Dad. This piece already looks like a cat.”