Fortnightly Writing Competition: POVERTY (Voting to Feb 9)

Started by Baron, Sun 19/01/2025 03:59:30

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Baron

Greetings fellow writers and wordsmiths. This fortnight we shall grapple with the topic of...

Poverty


Make of this topic what you will. It can be sad or hopeless, or comedic and senseless, or gruelling and inspirational. Acts of desperation, borne of poverty, make terrific dramatic fodder, resulting in triumph or tragedy. Will your daring MC beat the odds and escape the dire straits of their economic situation? Or will intergenerational trauma be passed down the ages indefinitely? Or will you take the high road, describing the nobility of the poor on their own terms, carving out a life using the only currency they have: honour, kindness, skill, cleverness, or sheer desperation?

Submissions are due Tuesday February 4, 2025, Hawaii Time. Do try to be timely, as extensions can be costly.  ;)

Good luck to all participants!

Baron

Oh you poor souls - only one week left!   :grin:

Mandle


Baron

Quote from: Mandle on Wed 29/01/2025 04:49:48I have an epic poem in the works.

Ah, the poet. Poorest of the starving artists. I'm sure this will fit the topic swimmingly.  ;)

Sinitrena

The two columns are meant to be read parallel with each other, not necessaryly sentence by sentence or paragraph by paragraph (I wasn't that exact) but generally speaking. I didn't get the formatting exactly as I wanted it, but I think you'll get the idea.


The Interview

Spoiler
Helene

The neighbour arguing pulled her into the state between sleeping and fully awake, and then the inevitable sirens completed it. Drowsily, Helene looked at the alarm clock next to her bed. And she saw nothing. The clock was dark, like the rest of her room.

An outage. Again. Maybe it was a blackout, maybe her mom had forgotten to pay the bill. Or had not been able to pay the bill.

Either way, she was late. She knew it, felt it in every bone, even without a clock telling her so. She saw it in the tiny bit of sunlight shining through the flimsy curtains, heard it in the constant stream of cars rushing by in front of her window, smelled it in the odour of the Chinese restaurant beginning to cook dinner in the morning.

And then she heard her little brother trample down the stairs to the subway on his way to school.

"Morning!" her mother greeted her as cheerfully as she managed. She had been tired and weak the last couple of weeks, more so than always. Normally, it was just her two jobs, now it was the chemo as well.

"Morning." Helene answered, taking the last piece of toast from the kitchen table.

"Don't forget to take Marc to his appointment this afternoon. He's never been there before." her mom said, already halfway out the door.

"Can't! Mom, I've got my interview this afternoon."

"Shoot. I forgot." She thought for a moment, clearly trying to move her schedule around in her head. But it didn't work. "I have to work longer today, and then my doctor's appointment... I can cancel it, maybe..."

"No, mom. Don't. I'll figure something out."

"No, I'll figure something out. Your interview is important. We need the money..." She almost swallowed the words. She didn't want to share her worries with her daughter, but it was far too late for that. "I figure something out. I'll call you-"

Helene interrupted her, looking down on her mobile phone. "Can't. Phone's dead. - Don't worry, mom, if the subway is on time, I can pick Marc up and still will be in time for the interview."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, absolutely!" No, not at all. Changing the topic, she continued, "Do we need anything from the supermarket? They have trousers in special offer today, and I wanted to take a look this morning."

"No, nothing right now, thanks. I got to go. See you in the evening.

"Yes, see you!"

And good luck with the interview. I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Thank you."

*

Helene had a ten in her purse and a couple coins she had left over from the last time she went grocery shopping. She had checked the ad again and again, making sure the offer was today and that the shirt really sold for five.

It would just be enough. They also needed milk and the bread was out and maybe...

The longer she kept walking through the supermarket, the more things came to mind that they were out of. They didn't even have any pasta left. And when she reached the special offers, her cart already contained more than she could afford.
She walked back and forth between the different aisles, putting things back and taking others, but no matter how much she added and subtracted, there was just no enough money.

Besides, the trousers weren't that great anyway. At least, so she told herself. And they wouldn't fit either. And for an interview they weren't good enough. What did it matter that nothing in her wardrobe would be good enough for the interview?
Helena

The gentle kiss of her father pulled her from sleep before her alarm clock had a chance to force her awake. Drowsily, Helena looked at the alarm clock next to her bed. 7 o'clock. A bit earlier than she usually woke up, but so he had time to look at the stars projected at her ceiling.

They came from the clock her brother had given it to her for her fifth birthday. Sometimes she thought it was a bit childish, but she loved it still. But from time to time, she went and bought a new alarm, only to throw it into a drawer after a few days or weeks and pulling her old star clock out again.

She stretched lazily while her father silently slipped out of her bedroom again to give her her space.

And then she heard her little brother slamming the garage door as he did every morning.

"Morning!" her mother greeted her as cheerfully as ever. Normally, she should be in the car by now, taking her brother to school. But today she had taken a day off and Helena's father had taken care of Mark. She wanted to be with her daughter for her first ever job interview.

"Morning." Helena answered, taking a pancake directly from the pan and drenching it with several scoops of syrup, before balancing the table to the dining room.

"Big day, huh? Nervous?" her mom said, planting a kiss on her hair.

"A bit, I guess. I'm not sure I want this job anyway."

"You don't have to take it if you don't want." her mother reminded her, continuing a discussion they had had before. "It's alright to procrastinate a bit before going to collage. You're young – have some fun!"

"No, mom. I want to try working."

"If you're sure. But don't take this job just because. The interview is important. If you don't like the manager or the hours, you can and should say no. It's not like you need the money."

Helena nodded, looking down on her phone, scrolling absent-mindedly through some messages.

"That reminds me," her mother said, pulling out a little package from behind her back, "a little present for becoming an adult!"

Helena opened the packet, revealing a new phone.

"Wow!" she called, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course! And this morning, I'll take you clothes shopping. You need something new to look your best this afternoon."

"Thanks, mom, you're the best! Can we go to the new boutique? There's this new skirt I thought about getting."

"Yes, of course. And maybe a new blouse and some good shoes, if we have time."

"Thank you!"

*

The new boutique greeted them with shining dresses and elegant blouses in the window. They had to wait a couple of minuted before it opened, having very limited hours for an exclusive clientele.

Helena and her mother didn't mind, admiring the fit of the skirts and several accessories that were exhibited with the clothes. The longer they waited, the more things Helena put on her mental shopping list.

"I love this shirt!" Helena cooed when the shop finally opened, pulling it from the rack right away.

"You'll look amazing in it!" her mom agreed.

Together, they walked through the store, adding more and more things to the load in their arms, until they could hardly carry it anymore.
When they were finally done, Helena could choose between at least three different outfits for her interview and a couple additional things for more casual days.

*

Peter put one résumé after the other aside, sorting them into two different piles. Paul, his assistant watched him, occasionally taking one up himself and checking it against his own notes.

"Helene and Helena." Peter said after a while, "The others all seem completely incompetent."

"I agree," Paul said, "they could both work out, but we only need one. It seems like Helene really needs and wants this job."

"Sure, but I think Helena is the better candidate."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, she arrived on time." Peter said with a sigh, as if he was not used to people being punctual.

"Yes, but Helene had an excuse. She had to pick up her brother. That won't happen again, I'm sure."

"Well, I'm not." Peter shook his head. "Helene has neither a car nor a driver's licence. Helena does -"

"Her mother drove her." Paul added under his breath, but Peter didn't hear him and didn't stop talking.

"Besides, I wonder if Helene even has the proper mindset to work here."

"What do you mean? She clearly wants to work here." Paul asked, looking over the CV another time, searching for the answer to his question.

"She clearly lacks ambition. Helena plans to study, but Helene, she doesn't know what she'll do in five years."

"Which means she'll not move on right away. We'll have a dedicated worker for a longer time. No need to train someone new again in a couple of months."

"There's that." Peter agreed, though with a lack of enthusiasm. "But again, Helene has no ambition -"

"That she told us of..."

"That she told us of, maybe, but... No, I don't like it. And in addition, what was she thinking dressing like that? This is a customer facing position. I really liked the look of Helena, very elegant, very fashionable."

Paul shook his head. "You've already decided, Peter, but I'll still point out that Helene will dress more stylish once she has the funds to buy better clothes."

"That's really not our problem. We'll hire Helena."
[close]

Baron

Tick tock, Mandle! I'm not above charging usurious interest rates to poor poets who need to borrow more time.  :)

Mandle

Don't Read This
Trigger warnings:
Spoiler
Involves child predation
[close]

Spoiler
Once, a poor beggar,
Once a man, but now lesser,
Staggered his way into a church.
But the priest left him in the lurch,
Closing the confessional for the better.

'The better to what end?'
The beggar did append,
To the priest's strict closure of the closet.
'Well, it was past closing time, wassit?'
The priest said, pushing him out to the bend.

The man begged for and bought,
The needs to abort,
The church's hard stance on his plight.
In the glare of welder-torch light,
He fashioned a bomb that ought,

Bring the pastor a bit of trouble,
From the flashbang that he had cobbled.
To stop new recruits,
From getting cocks up their poop-chutes.
And leave the priest dead in the rubble.

But he bragged online that night,
Saying, "I'll bring down the buggers, al'ight?',
Was raided by SWAT,
Taken out with a shot.
Now the priest gets to rape all he likes.
[close]

Baron

The contest is now closed. It seems there is a paucity of entries this time around, but we'll have to make do. Maybe we could cut them with sawdust to stretch them further? Submitted for your readerly approval, our entrants this time around are:

Sinitrena with The Interview
Mandle with Don't Read This

Given that we only have two entries, voting will be straight forward. Anyone reading these words must vote for either Sinitrena or Mandle (but not both, and certainly not neither!). May the best entry win.

Voting closes at midnight HDT (UTC -9) Sunday February 9, 2025, with results to be announced at some point the next day.  Happy reading!

Sinitrena

Mandle
Spoiler
The rhythm and rhymes are a bit chaotic, so I won't comment further on this aspect.
The plot is a bit divided. On the one hand, the first 3 stanzas deal with a "begger" (one might think homeless man, but technically a begger doesn't need to be homeless, I guess) being thrown out of a church and then he wants revenge for this (and the general unfairness of the world, one could say.) The last two stanzas on the other hand, deal with child molestation and frame the actions of the begger as a reaction to this. Of course, one could argue that he is a begger and in a bad place because he was SA'ed but this is still a different motive from being thrown out of church. Also, why did he go to this church when this priest molested him?
The themes this poem deals with are important, but I'm not sure such a flippant tone is the right choice for such serious problems.
[close]


My 1 vote goes to:
Spoiler
Mandle
[close]

Mandle

@Sinitrena
Spoiler
I wrote that when quite drunk, barely remembering it the next day. When I looked back over it later, I just decided to keep the chaotic mess of rhyming and jarring tone because it felt raw and kinda appropriate to the horror of the whole thing in a punk-rock kinda way. Well, that was my thought, anyway. Whether it worked or not, or would work for some but not others, I have no idea. It's not a piece I would include in a collection of work, that's for sure.

Also, I don't think you or I need to vote, but my autovote goes to you, just in case. Will read/feedback soon.
[close]

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