Ongoing competitions
Are you interested in entering the Short Story Competition?
Her Magazine - Short Story Competition
the winning submission will be published in an issue of Her Magazine.
Entries need to have a maximum of 1200 words and will be selected based on their interest and professional standard.
See below for this month's winning entry.
Entries are to be emailed to
Her Magazine: hermag@strettonpublishing.co.nz
Terms and Conditions:
Entries to have a maximum of 1200 words, submitted in double spacing including a short biography of the writer. Entries close 20th of each month. Each entry must be the author’s original work and must not have been published before. The winner each month will be notified prior to publication which will be at the editor's discretion.
Her Magazine retains first publication rights for all winning entries for a period of six months. Entries from the previous month cannot be resubmitted for following months’ competitions – ie. entries can only be submitted once. Each entry should be accompanied by a short biography of the writer. Each entry must be original and must be submitted by the author. The judges’ decision will be final and no correspondence will be entered into. Submission of each entry constitutes acceptance by the submittor of the competition’s terms and conditions of entry.
Winning Entry from September 2010 Issue:
Erin knew she’d done the right thing and felt a strange comfort as she sat opposite the clairvoyant. She should have done this months ago. What had she been so afraid of?
“Welcome Erin. I’m glad you came. I’m told you are rather sceptical about the after life. I hope today that I can convince you otherwise. You have experienced some loss and sadness in your life but I see that you are starting to heal,” the old man smiled at the familiar look of surprise in the young woman’s face.
Erin gasped. She had to hold herself back from blurting her story to this man until she was sure.
“There’s a young man here to see you. He tells me he is your husband and he’d like you to know that it saddened him to leave you so early in your marriage but he had no choice. It has been very difficult for him to watch the effect that his passing had on you and he’s glad that you are starting to move on with your life now.
Erin covered her face with her hands and let out a sob. She usually kept her grief private and her emotions hidden from others but the sense of relief she felt was overwhelming. After a few moments she allowed herself to speak.
“It’s true, my husband died in a road accident almost two years ago. The loss I have experienced is indescribable but I finally feel like I’m getting my life back in order. I sold our old house and have bought a little place in Rimu Street. I have gone back to work as a teacher at Frankleigh School and I love the distraction but I still miss Tim terribly.”
The figure in the corner of the room disappeared and quickly reappeared behind Erin. He stroked her hair but she didn’t feel it like she used to when he was alive. He missed her touch. He hated the fact that she seemed mostly unaware of his presence. That had been the worst thing about dying. The death hadn’t hurt but his disconnection with Erin was as much a loss to him as his death was to her. There had been times when she seemed to look at him and he’d been sure that she knew he was with her but they were only fleeting moments. He had been waiting for this moment to communicate with her for almost two years.
“I feel that you have come here to ask Tim a question. What is it Erin? What brought you here today?” asked the man.
“I do have a question. I’ve done something awful and I hope you can help me,” Erin continued, “I lost the beautiful engagement ring that he gave me and I’ve looked everywhere. That ring is so precious to me and I’d do anything to have it back on my finger. I look for it every day and sometimes I dream that I’ve found it and I wake up disappointed. Sometimes I waken at night because I’ve thought of a place that I haven’t looked, and when I find that it isn’t there, the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach returns. He gave it to me trusting that I’d take good care of it and I’ve failed him.”
Tim left Erin’s side and re-emerged by the clairvoyant. His gaze didn’t leave Erin as he bent to the man’s ear.
“Erin accidentally flicked the ring off the kitchen bench when she baked jam tarts for the school fundraiser. It rolled between the floorboards behind the cooker. I’ve tried to show her many times when I see her searching. Please tell her. Please tell her that I will always love her.”
The man raised his gaze from the small table between him and Erin. “Tim said that he will always love you and he watches you searching for this ring.” His gaze returned to the table. “The ring you are looking for slipped off your finger when you were hanging clothes in your wardrobe. It fell into a shoe.”
Tim’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. His whole body shuddered and cold air blew around the room. “No!” he roared. “No! I believed you could hear me. You’re a fake.” Tim roared this over and over again in the clairvoyant’s ear. “You are a fake. Erin and I believed in you but you know nothing, nothing!”
The clairvoyant didn’t flinch; his gaze remained on the table. Erin was torn between racing home to find the ring and staying to hear more from Tim. Erin’s emotions were in disarray. She wanted to stay and wanted to go. She was furious with herself for not seeking the clairvoyant’s help sooner and pleased that she had been brave enough to do so. She felt a terrible loss every time she thought of Tim but happy to keep his memory alive. Despite all this internal commotion, she suddenly felt an unusual peace. It was time to leave.
Erin rose from her chair. “I cannot thank you enough for your help. You have a gift and I have never felt closer to Tim since he died.”
Long after Erin left, Tim thrashed and screamed at the man until he grew tired and faded.
The clairvoyant spoke into his mobile phone. “I have another one for you…there’s a diamond ring behind
the cooker at 7 Rimu Street. The girl lives alone and isn’t home weekdays between nine and three…”
About the author
Stella McCallum is a 40-year-old nurse and mother of twin boys. A member of a writer’s group in New Plymouth, she has had non-fiction articles published in an Australian magazine. She adores writing short stories and says the Her Magazine competition inspired her to finally submit one for publication.
