Home Read What's New Join
My Account Login

Read Our Devotional             2016 Opportunities to be Published             Detailed Navigation

The HOME for Christian writers! The Home for Christian Writers!
The Official Writing Challenge



how it works
submission rules
guidelines for
choosing a level


submit your entry
read current entries
read past entries
challenge winners

Our Daily Devotional HERE
Place it on your site or
receive it daily by email.



how it works   Submit

Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: rain (10/17/05)

By dub W


A dark cloud rolled across the skies and a parade of kettle drums accompanied the march. of wind and rain. At the inn droplets formed and competed with dust on warped glass windows.

“Molly, be ye goin’ to the faire?” Mary O’Connell stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked into the darkened passage expecting an immediate answer. None came. “Molly O’Connell, aire ya listn’ girl? Her demand was yet to reach the fever pitch of her red hair. Mary pulled a dancing lock from her eyes and shouted up the stairs. “Molly!”

The return greeting of silence both frustrated Mary and worried her. Molly was a typical teenager, who often got engrossed in the latest novel or teenage magazine. Mary regarded the stairs, she was already tired from scrubbing floors, and to climb the stairs one more time was more than she was truly willing to do, however, with her outburst drawing no attention she elected to submit to the incline and track down the stray Molly O’Connell. Molly liked to play in the attic; Mary knew that even her loudest voice would not carry to the third floor.

Mary reached the second floor landing and looked for a light in the teenager’s room, however, no hint of light emitted beneath the door. She glanced toward the lavatory, again no light was seen. Finally, she saw a shaft of light coming from the attic stairway. “Molly!” She demanded.

Suddenly, the door burst open and down the stairs bounded a scantily clad teenage girl. Her short yellow skirt bounced above her waist when she hopped to the landing floor.

“Look at yaself girl, you’d covered in cobwebs and dust. Molly, what were you doing up there?”

“Nothing mum, twas looking through some old trunks.” She began brushing off her arms and dress. “Mum, I need few quid for the faire.”

“You’ll not be goin out like that. Put some clothes on, it’s raining you know, you’ll catch your death you will. Anyway, I thought ye be goin wid your bother today. I put ten pound note on the bureau for both ye.”

“Oh, no mum, Danny, Charlotte, and Liam will be by presently, Liam owes me a quid, I’ll make’m pay.”

“Mind ye their mums don’t let em out without proper clothes.” Mary’s voice trailed off. She didn't have the heart to force babysitting off on Molly on a rainy day.

Molly hopped into her room and closed the door. Although Mary had not finished her motherly lecture, she elected to save the bulk of it for later. In front of her loomed the attic pull down stairs. I wonder what that scamp was into.

Mary pulled herself up the attic stairs and peered into the darkness. Somewhere her hand found the cotton pull cord of the attic light. “If I find a leprechaun up here I will scream bloody murder I will.” She was used to talking to herself; her teenage children rarely gave her more than a short audience.

She discovered an old chair and rested herself. It had been a year since she was in the attic. Usually, one of the men of the house hauled boxes and trunks up and down the steep attic stairs. “What could interest me Molly so much up here?”

Although hidden in the shadow, a trunk was open on her right. Mary reached over to an attic window and pulled off the dirty brown cloth covering. The room suddenly filled with a gray light. “Rain gonna wash us all away. Whisht, will you. Lookie there.”

Mary spied the open trunk and scattered clothes around an old Bible. The pages were turned to Psalms, and a verse marker was indicating the 135th Psalm. “Mercy.” Mary looked around the trunk then saw the two clean splotches in the dust. Both spots were directly in front of the trunk.

Tears immediately began to run down Mary’s face. “She ad to be kneeln’ here. I shoulda knowed’ it.”

Outside the house laughing voices broke the foreboding silence of the attic. Mary stood to look out the window. Four youngsters were walking in the street. Rain splashed off their plastic rain slickers. From the attic Mary could see the short yellow skirt of her daughter bouncing along under a short rain cape.

“Surely, dear Lord, sometimes it must rain for a mum to know her daughter.”

The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.

This article has been read 1220 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Lynda Lee Schab 10/24/05
Good story. I found it a little hard to follow with the dialect but that's just me. A few grammatical errors but nothing major. Good job.
Blessings, Lynda
Donnah Cole10/25/05
Great job! I think you did an excellent take on the dialect -- very authentic Scottish verbage! Enjoyed!
Cassie Memmer10/25/05
I enjoyed your story! Liked the characters also!
Jan Ackerson 10/26/05
Well done! You wrote the dialect so effectively that I wanted to dance an Irish jig. Very sweet story.
Linda Watson Owen10/26/05
I felt like I was right there with Mary and Molly! Delightful!
Gabrielle Morgan10/27/05
Lovely story. Good writing and it flowed well. I found the characters really alive. Well done!
Karen Ward10/28/05
Oh Dub! I care!

I took a while to get used to the accents too, and her wanting money then refusing it confused me, but I loved the story. The characters shone through, I really like the two knee patches in the dust, and that Molly was still wearing the yellow skirt when she left! Typical teen behaviour, typical motherly thoughts!
Garnet Miller 10/28/05
I think Molly used to be me when I was 16! Whenever I snuck out of the house wearing less than was appropriate for my mother, I would get caught. I love this story. The dialogue is fantastic! Well done:)
Shari Armstrong 10/28/05
(had to use your link -since your clue was halfway through lol). I loved it -love the lilt of the language -and I could relate to this line "Her demand was yet to reach the fever pitch of her red hair." :)
Julianne Jones10/28/05
I enjoyed reading this. Loved the dialogue - had such a musical quality. And the spots in the dust - wonderful!
Sally Hanan10/28/05
I suspected this Northern Irish story might be yours..Nicely written, and given the spiritual state of the country I'm not surprised she had to go up to the attic to find a Bible :)
Maxx .10/29/05
I thought this was yours Dub...of course I thought a couple others were also! lol! Your writing is always polished and well refined. This is no exception. Dialect worked well. Excellent! :-)
Brandi Roberts10/30/05
I really enjoyed this. Dirty knees, who knew. Well-written!
Pat Guy 10/31/05
Sorry - so dense about the clue! But I'm glad I hunted you down (or up?) because this was a delight to read. Enjoyable and so true in any language! :) Loved the dialect!
Suzanne R11/03/05
Loved the way you brought to life these two characters - both very true to life!