An Unhappy Medium
1st place HUMOROUS SHORT STORY COMPETITION £200
David has been writing short stories of varying quality in various genres for four years and has enjoyed himself famously in doing so. This is his third win and he had been a runner-up three times. He lives and works in Leeds.
By David Woodfine
Sarah watched the man storm out of the booth, the drama slightly undermined by his getting briefly but comprehensively entangled in the beaded curtain. Freeing himself, he called her something ungentlemanly and then disappeared into the misty rain that had been smothering the seafront for most of the day.
Sarah sat back in her chair and sighed, asking herself, not for the first time that week, why this was so hard. As the guttering candles cast greasy yellow smears across her reflection in the crystal ball on the table, she wondered whether, overdraft or no overdraft, the new job was worth it.
‘Knock knock!’
Rose came in through the curtain, bringing with her a blast of cold, salty air. Sarah’s employer was a small woman of indeterminate age with a spray of dark hair and so elaborately festooned with charms, medallions and trinkets that she jingled like a pocketful of change. She was from Essex, and sounded like it, except when she was with a customer. With customers she affected a Hammer Horror, somewhereeast- of-the-Urals accent.
‘Hello Rose.’
‘Quick word, darling.’
‘Okay.’
‘Another one storm out, did they?’
‘Yes. Sorry.’
‘Did he cross your palm?’
‘Did he…?’
Rose rolled her eyes.
‘Did he give you a tenner, darling?’
‘No. Sorry.’