Fortnightly Writing Competition - "Misunderstanding" - CLOSED!

[Atelier]

Misunderstanding

This fortnight, entrants should write a story (or poem!) with the theme of one big misunderstanding. Your entries can be any genre, but a clever twist at the end would go down with me a treat. That's it. So have fun with your favourite and penultimate comp before Christmas! (I think).

DATES:
Entries until: Friday 27th November (11:59 GMT)
Votes until: Monday 30th November (11:59 GMT)
Winner announced: Tuesday 1st December

Feast your eyes on this trophy up for grabs:

(updated to fit signatures)

Good luck everybody!

[Atelier]

There's one week left on this competition folks, so if you'd like to enter then now is the time to do so!

P.S. What usually happens if nobody enters by the closure date?

[Chicky]

Best sentence wins 

[Oliwerko]

I'm thinking about it every day, but just can't make up an interesting story at all 
I'll keep trying though.

[Akatosh]

I've got some scribbles. Watch this space. I suck. A lot.

[Oliwerko]

THAT DAY

That day I saw the waters boil
and rise to the sky like hot oil.
That day fluid became fire
from ground to sky an orange spire.

That day water burst to flames
from Black Sea to River Thames.
That day the wind was blowing hot
everyone asleep - but I was not.

That day I heard the sound of sea
I heard the wind blow legacy
That day I saw the flames to race.
Something big was taking place.

That day I saw the sky to burn
and felt the wind to slowly turn.
That day the fire in my eyes
reflected the flame of despise.

That day my eyes were wet and sore.
I whispered to the wind: 'No more.'
That day I stood there quiet and still
and watched columns of water to rise up and spill.

That day was something in the air
water began to split, tear
That day the sunlight lit the ocean
and tons of water kept motion.

That day light through liquid shun,
through liquid obstructing the sun.
That day back then had just begun
and yet something big was done.

That day at last some help arrived
turned the cooker off for good.
How to boil a cup of tea
I simply misunderstood.

------------------------------------------------

Perhaps not respecting the theme as it should, but I wanted to squeeze something from me for the sake of challenging myself.

[Atelier]

That's great! Perhaps the rhythm becomes slightly uneven at some parts towards the end, but it's a very strong entry.

[Oliwerko]

Glad you like it.

You're right, I still find myself sacrificing the rhythm for sense at times.

I'm looking forward to the other entries, this theme really squeezes one's creativity 

[Find Therma]

Great entry Oliwerko.

Will give more feedback when comp is over.

Hopefully will finish my entry. Tis a poem too. Haven't worked on it for a week or so on but should manage to sneak it in on time. 

[Wyz]

ok, this is a tad expirimental, I've had not much time to fiddle around with it . I hope you enjoy it.

The magic potion
When he was young, at least younger then now, he worked for Mister Peecrow and his shop of magic potions. He liked his job and learned a lot, mixing ingredients, one by one. His boss, not praised for his wizardry, had earned his respect by his diligence. The potions he sold had one thing alike; they were made with great care, as with the recipe for as much as a hair.
Now, his young aide had one little problem, which often proved a pain: when he started reading, some letters looked the same. For a long time now he had kept it hidden even from his boss, by using his wits and guessing what the words should have been. Although a lot of secrets are kept very well, for the most if them it is just a matter of time. The young helper though brave he might have been, I am sure he felt he was not taking this one to his grave. He might have thought of telling it the world, the sooner the better, but each day he postponed. Till that day finally came, he could not keep it up; it was the day, I remember it good, I walked in the shop.
It was a chilly day, the wind sanded my cheeks. I closed the door behind me, and took off my hat. I reached for my coat and fumbled around till I found in one of the pockets my note. A bit nervous I walked to the counter and shove on the note without saying a word. The shop keeper not flustered by this act, had seen it before, customers for potions they rather not talked about. He picked up the note, and looked at it carefully, hence silence once more. “hmmm… I think I have it done by Monday.”
I thanked the man, and made my way out. The next part of the story, I can only guess.


The young aide started enthusiastic but soon was in distress, this surely was the most confusing recipe he had seen in weeks. Though a bit worried he continued his work, mixing the ingredients, one by one.
- The skin of a pear. / - The skin of a bear
- Three hairs of a dog. / - Three hairs of a hog.
- Leather of a cow. / - Feather of a crow.
…and more of that.

He made, confused as he was, a wild guess and mixed together what he thought was right, and wished for all it wouldn’t come out.

That Monday when I returned to the shop, I was in high spirits gladden and so, because my awaited potion was done, I came to pick it up. The brief moment I was inside, could not have been brief enough; soon I tried it, waiting for the magic to happen. That day no results came to pass, but I knew I had to be patient, give it a day or so. At so it came the next day, as soon as I stepped out of my bed, I noticed something was difference. When I looked in the mirror, I almost fell, my head still bald as ever, had grown out of proportions. Quickly I dressed, grabbed my coat and hat, made my way to the store, not wasting any time. The good shop keeper was just opening his doors, almost hit his head shocked by the sight of me. My head still growing, it must have looked ridiculous, and floating on top of it a now way to small hat. Waddling by the weight of it, barely made it trough, almost lost my balance, I made it inside. “Good sir, some mistake must have been made, this is certainly not what I meant, when I wanted my hairs to grow back.”
“I am very sorry sir, this is not correct, I will look in to it, as for how this came to happen.”
Not much later, his young helper entered the shop; he saw us talking and immediately came clean. Mister Peecrow, now a bit worried, asked for the note the young aide had used. It was the note I had given to him, containing a recipe I had found in our family magic book. The shop keeper looked at it and promptly said to me: “sir, the mistake make appears to yours.”
He held the note in front of my face, it very clearly said ‘head growing potion’. How could I have been so blunt, in the joy of the moment, I must have misread the name of the potion from the book. I made my apologies to the shop keeper and his help, we all learned a value lesson that day, I am sure of it. A few hours after my head stopped growing, and in a day or so it became back to normal. The shop keeper and his aide are still in business today, although his aide now is experienced and self-confident. His reading problem was solved long ago, he has a helper that reads the recipes for him now.

[Oliwerko]

Very, very nice, I really like the word order 

[Atelier]

Super entry Wyz, and thanks for putting Competition back into Fortnightly Writing! If anybody would like to enter, is going to enter, or has even just thought about entering, then now is the time to do so. You have until 11:59pm GMT to post your entries, but I'll give a bit of leeway if you're geographically unable to make the deadline. Have fun!

[Atelier]

Thank you again for both the entries, and now is the time to cast your votes! Voting will end on Monday 30th November with the winner (hopefully) being announced on the 1st of December.

Read carefully and then vote!

[Wonkyth]

Oliwerko.

[Find Therma]

Sorry for not getting my entry in - I tried but in the end I just wasn't happy with the final piece as it was. I liked the concept but it ended up being abit rambling and certainly needed abit of tidying up.

Anyway...

My vote goes to Oliwerko.

I really like the twist at the end. I had no idea when reading it that it was all over a cup of tea. The 1st, 3rd, and 8th stanzas are the strongest in my opinion.

Personally though I think that some of the wording could do with a little rejigging and there's a few lines that seem a little meaningless and perhaps there purely for rhyming purposes. I also agree with Atellier, the overall rhythm isn't perfect - reading it through results in a bit of stuttering.

Strong entry overall though. Good work.

[Atelier]

It's the 1st of December, which can only mean one thing! The winner is Oliwerko! Take one of my trophies as an early gift:

(On the condition next round is Christmas-themed. )

Thanks too to Wyz for submitting an entry well worth second place. Happy Christmas everybody! And when somebody has a vaccine for the Festive Bug let me know.

[Oliwerko]

Heh. I didn't really expect to win the first competition I enter.
Thanks everyone for your feedback and Wyz for competition 
I'll try to help keep the writing compo alive.

Just a fun fact: I had been thinking about my entry and had pretty much given up after a few days of no inspiration. Then, one evening, I found myself writing this poem - and suddenly, out of nowhere, the 8th stanza appeared, turning the whole story inside out. Sometimes I surprise myself.

AG - Sorry to disappoint you, but I think that Christmas theme is better suited for actual christmas, that is - the next fortnight after this one. I have some ideas I would love to see realized by someone else than me, too. Moreover, I don't like Christmas stories for some reason 

I'll think about the theme and post the next thread right after I fill up my belly with something tasty 

Thanks again everyone.