Also shortlisted in the Timely Topic: Throne Competition were: Lesley Evans, Cheltenham, Gloucestershire; Patricia Marson,
Kirkcaldy, Fife; Caroline Newbury, Ditton, Kent; Annie Percik, Enfield; Paul Robinson, Brackley, Northamptonshire.SHORT STORY COMPETITION WINNER
Liz Gwinnell is a solicitor specialising
in prison law. When she is not behind bars,
she enjoys creating things out of words, wool
and food and keeping three unruly cats in order at
her home in Wiltshire. She collects vintage items
and loves anything from the 1970s and 1980s.
Liz had her fi rst short story published in Writers’
News in the 1990s and has since written articles for
the Wiltshire Times, The Bath Chronicle, The Lady,
Teddy Bear Scene and Wiltshire Life and a licensing
law handbook. She has won prizes in the Frome
Short Story Competition, the Eyelands Greece
Competition, Mslexia Flash Fiction Competition,
and been short- and longlisted in the Bath and
Bristol short story awards.
King of theRoundaboutS
ometimes, things came
flying over the fence.
And sometimes, the woman
next door shouted.
She shouted a lot before the wicker
chair came over.
‘Good job we wasn’t sunbathing,’
Dad said.
Usually he threw the stuff back
but you couldn’t throw a chair back.
What if someone was on the other
side of the fence?
‘They didn’t care about that when
they threw it over,’ Mum grumbled.
Dad put the chair in the shed
and I went inside to do my
homework. I had to write an essay
about Kings and Queens and What
Makes Them Important.
The next day, the man next door
went to live on the roundabout.
‘What do you mean he’s gone to
live on the roundabout?’ Mum said,pummelling Dad’s shirt with the
iron.
I showed her, pointing out the
window at the top of the stairs.
‘Well,’ she said. ‘He must be mad.’
I got more sense out of Dad.
‘Why is he living on the roundabout?’
I asked him later that night.
‘Well son,’ Dad said, rubbing his
chin.’Perhaps he don’t think he’s
important.’
‘Do people go and live on
roundabouts if they don’t feel
important?’ I asked.
‘Probably,’ he said. ‘I can’t think of
no other reason.’
That night, as I was going to
sleep, I thought about roundabouts
and people who didn’t think they
were important. And the next day I
made him a throne. A throne would
make him feel important. Kings felt
important when they sat on thrones.
I blew up balloons and I tied them
around the wicker chair in the shed.
I squirted glue and shook glitter and
added a length of tinsel from the
Christmas box. When I’d finished,
I sat on it to test it out and it did
make me feel a bit important or asimportant as a ten-year-old boy
could feel although I’m nearly eleven
so I’ll be more important soon.
I carried the chair to the
roundabout and I ran between a gap
in the cars and hoped Mum wasn’t
looking out the window and I left it
there for him to find when he woke
up because I could hear him snoring
somewhere inside the scrubby bushes.
Dad saw him first.
‘Ere! Ella! You’ll never guess what!’
They were staring out of the
landing window as the street lights
came on. The man was sitting on the
throne and it glowed and sparkled in
the headlights of the cars. Some of
the drivers tooted and he raised his
arm and waved, just like a king.
‘Whatever is he doing sitting out
there like that,’ Mum said, tea towel
in hand, drying a plate that was
already dry.
I shrugged.
‘Maybe he’s being important,’ I said.
That night, as I went to sleep, I
thought about Kings and Queens and
people who felt important again. And
I thought that the next day, I might
make him a Crown.by Liz Gwinnell
1st place
£100
Timely topic:
Throne