100 Words - Competition Results

The recent "100 Words" competition, (prize: a ticket to Cybermummy or £100 in cash) finally came to a close.  The judges - Her MelnessMr London Street and myself - sifted through the 26 entries and drew up a shortlist of 10 finalists which was published on Monday.


Entrants were asked to write a letter of exactly 100 words (excluding salutation and sign-off) to anyone or anything, covering any subject.  



I am pleased to have the honour of publishing the winning 100 Words letter and those of the two runners-up.  Congratulations to Paul Kendrick and many thanks to all those who took part.



Please feel free to comment about the top three letters, or indeed, any from the shortlist.  It's amazing what you can achieve in just 100 words.


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WINNER:

Paul Kendrick
Wafers

Dear Sympathetic Num

A secular child at Catholic school; teased for being different.  Too "unclean" to partake of the host during mass.  "Demonic", perhaps (if catcalls can be relied upon).  A hellish situation for a teaching assistant's first day, certainly.

Not for you.

You gave me a magic box: currency; a teetering pile of unconsecrated communion wafers to eat at break.  "To shut them up," you said, with an unexpectedly impish spark, grinning... Those brittle discs carried more kudos than Quavers, I can tell you.

A soothing drop of compassion on the rough, cracked memories of my schooldays, even now eighteen years forward.

Better at remembering acts of kindness than I am names


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1ST RUNNER UP
Travis Sloat
A Letter To My Wife

Dear Alicia,

The emptiness drives you mad, out of your senses with jealousy, anger, and rage.  The emptiness clouds your mind, makes you bitter, makes you hate others for their gifts.  It's something you've always wanted, yet you've been denied for eight years now.  I want it too, for different reasons.  I want it for you.  I want you to be able to share the massive amount of love you've shown me over the years.  However, the emptiness still exists, prominent in your mind, a barb that pierces your heart every time someone else gets to say, "I'm pregnant."  I love you.

Yours forever, Travis


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2ND RUNNER-UP
Katy Scrogin
Contrition

Dear Soren,

A dozen years ago, floating on a confident wave of shared secrets and earnest discussions, you called to ask me for an official date.  A dozen years ago, I tried to hid my freak-out, but you knew.  Although I always say I have no regrets in life, that instance of caving to still-childish fears shows me up as a liar.  I miss our friendship, and your goodness, and the lapsed possibility of sharing some of my life with you.  I wish you joy and peace and unending abundance of the eagerness I spurned so flippantly.  I've missed you ever since.

Katy

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