This entry is by Eleanor Capaldi (@brightstarshine on Twitter)
‘Are you sure this is your ticket?’ the cloakroom attendant asked me. Of course I was sure, I’d only been given it a couple of hours earlier. But my pal had pulled, and seeing as we were a two woman team, that left me decidedly on my own. Not that I wasn’t happy for her, but it did take the fun out of dancing. Having no-one to dance with.
So, he asks me again, ‘Are you sure?’ Completely. My bag therefore missing, the hunt begins. While mindfully musing the practicality of a sweep of the building, I saw a flash of white heading out beyond the cloakroom and down towards the dance floor. A glance over the shoulder vaguely in my direction. Bitch had my bag.
I forgot my usual feeble approach in the face of danger and set off in hot pursuit. Within a couple of minutes I could just see the back of the person disappear into the civilisation of the crowd. Under the lights, white showed up in a sort of ghoulish glow, as if UV paint had been spilt all over the enthusiastic club goer. I began to weave my way in and out of the maze, searching for spaces; under an elbow here, round a waist there.
Timidity began to grow. The flush of ‘no fear!’ faded as I steeled myself to meet my thief. I hoped they weren’t bigger than me. Long legs poked out the edge of an alcove.
So she was bigger than me. Damn.
Dark jeans to slim body, encased in white shirt. Charm of necklace resting low. I followed the chain and it led to glinting hazel eyes, dark hair pinned back. Oh god she might be Mediterranean. Suddenly my head is imagining beaches and vegan paella and coffee on the veranda.
But I must stop. This is my thief. And there is her loot. My bag. Sitting quite peacefully beside her. Matching ticket number still attached.
She studies me in the eye, and before I can launch into any tirade,
“I knew I had to get your attention somehow.”
Well written. I like the particularly effective way you convey tension through pacing and rhythm.
This is very vivid, I could picture myself in there. I love the Mediterranean ‘prize’ and the thought of ‘vegan paella and coffee on the veranda’ 🙂 Thanks for entering!
Love this one. Job well done! Pacing is excellent. Enough unanswered questions to make the reader want to follow the protagonist, no matter what happens with the gal in the blue jeans.
Thank you for the positive feedback and taking the time to read it 🙂
Great story! I could place myself in the protagonaists head so easily. Well done!
You paint a vivid picture here. Wonderful read =) Thanks for sharing!
Great pacing, I found it exciting to read, it was as if I was in the club watching the whole thing unfold. Particularly love the dancer with no spacial awareness lol.
dum dum DUM!!! Why does she need her attention? What happens next?! 😉
Thank you for reminding me why I loathe nightclubs – I always get to be right next to the spatially-challenged person with no sense of rhythm.
Liked this a lot – definition of faerystory being “this never happens to me” huh?
Darnit I should have read comments before doing editing, oops. Perhaps will place the original longer version on my blog after the contest is finished.
haha, that was the line of interpretation I was going down.. wish fulfilment for a happy ever after.
“…beaches and vegan paella and coffee…” Love it!