Mad Dog’s Day

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While I was at Coonabarabran, I was asked to judge the staff’s short story writing competition. The only rule was that it had to be 50 words. A whole story in 50 words. I couldn’t do that, not in a million years. For me, even a short story is over 10,000 …

But these guys were all over it. There were space odysseys, toxic curries, sunset epiphanies, and men in saunas. The winning entry was by Kellie Nash, and I asked her if I could share it with you, because I loved it. In just 50 words, Kellie built a world and a strong situation. Humour, tragedy and, ultimately, death …

Mad Dog’s Day

The handsome stranger, a solid wall of honesty and manners, rode with his Peacemaker into Mad Dog’s town aiming to make the West less wild.

The plan: twenty paces . . . turn . . . shoot . . . back to the saloon.

Mad Dog, always confused by numbers and firing at eighteen, stilled the ladies’ fluttering hearts.

© Kellie Nash, 2012

 

 

 

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