Since having a stroke four years ago, Deborah Lysaght has let her imagination run wild.
The 60-year-old writes stories in the genre of what she calls ‘‘mild horror’’, or ‘‘tales of the unexpected’’.
Her short story Cold won the adult section of the annual Ashburton Writers’ Group Short Story Competition last week.
‘‘I was very proud,’’ Lysaght said. The Ashburton’s St John op shop former manager said she had always been a bit of a raconteur, but only had the time to put pen to paper after her stroke.
‘‘Being a dog mum wasn’t enough for me, I needed to do something creative, I have always told stories,’’ Lysaght said.
‘‘I remember when I was in kindy, the teacher used to leave me in charge of the class and to tell stories, which I could do.’’
The stroke caused paralysis in her right arm, so she is a one-handed typist when it comes to writing her stories.
She is part way through two novels.
Cold is told through the eyes of what appears to be a maligned wife, angry at her husband after she overhears him on a baby monitor talking to another woman.
Lysaght said the seed of the story was sown when she used a baby monitor herself when her son was young.
Ashburton Writers’ Group spokesperson Rae Magson said the short story competition attracted about 60 entries, the same number as last year.
Winner of the 12-15 years category was Danielle Esmolina of Wakanui School with her story The Time Keeper’s Pendant; winner of the 11 years and under category was Aaliyah Connolly of Allenton School with her story The Magic World’s Problem.
The three winning stories are below.
Winner: Cold, by Deborah Lysaght
“Don’t worry! I’ll be there! I can’t wait to see you… I’ve missed you too…” Those words.
That was my ‘loving husband’ talking. Well, not talking really; more of a hurried, excited whisper. On his phone. In our year-old baby’s bedroom. Did you know baby monitors pick up everything?
“Look, got to go now… Love you too… Yes, see you Friday… Yep! Bye… Bye.” I was so bloody angry. I was shaking. How could he? How? I went into the kitchen to calm down with a glass of something. Pouring myself a huge wine; my hands shook and drops of wine splashed on to the floor. I wanted to hit something, or someone. I heard the shower running in the bathroom upstairs. Talk to your lover, then have a shower. Nice.
My head was banging. I held the glass to my forehead; the cool glass was oddly comforting.
He’d done this before, of course. I was heartbroken before, but not now. Now, I was just bloody angry. Obviously, he no longer had the power to break my heart, which came as a pleasant surprise. I heard the shower had stopped running, and he was moving around upstairs, getting ready for bed probably.
“Sammy’s out like a light!”
“David!” I jumped. I didn’t hear him come into the kitchen. He laughed about his boy taking after him as he rummaged through the fridge for a snack. His hair was still damp from the shower. There was a minty fresh aroma about him. He was muttering about the spilled wine on the floor.
“Did I hear you talking to someone?”
He didn’t answer me.
I didn’t sleep. I lay awake listening to David’s breathing, almost wishing it to stop. I never used to feel this way about him. There was a time when we were so close, I’d wake up in the night to find that he was holding my hand. We couldn’t get enough of each other. There is a certain phrase, in a certain song, ‘I could be so content hearing the sound of your breath…’ Now?
Now, I could cheerfully smother him. My indulgent thoughts were dismissed when Sammy woke up for a change. He was such a wonderful baby; he didn’t even do that ‘spit up’ thing I’d been told about. He was sleeping through now, too. Once he was settled again, it was about 4am. I walked around David’s side of the bed, where his phone was charging. We have our phones on Do Not Disturb when we’re sleeping, for Sammy’s sake, more than anything. I could see he had texts. I didn’t know who from. I decided to try something. I didn’t think it would work. If it worked, surely there’d be stories all over Mumsnet about it? I picked up his phone and held it in front of his face… Oh my god! I was in!
I ran silently downstairs. My heart was racing, and my hands trembling. I touched Messages. They were coming from someone named ‘D’. ‘D’ had long, black hair, a pleasant enough smile, a penchant for low cut T-shirts, and she was a stranger to the word ‘bra’. She also claimed to love him. I copied all the messages and sent them to my phone. The thing with anger is, it makes you reckless. So, feeling reckless, I turned his phone off, and I threw his phone in the bin, underneath some dirty nappies. I slept like a log after that.
The next morning, David was frantically searching for his phone. I said helpful things like, ‘Maybe it’s where you left it?” or “Have you tried calling it from the landline?” Or, my favourite, “Well, you do tend to leave things lying around, David.” David was slamming things around.
Good.
“When’s the last time you used it?” I innocently ventured.
“Let me think… Last night… No, not last night… Maybe I… I give up…” he concluded with exasperation.
“Actually David, can you drop Sammy off at day care? I’ve got a busy day.”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I grabbed my coat and my bag and left. Of course, I didn’t have a busy day. I never have a busy day, not in the normal sense. I went to my favourite tea shop, sat down, ordered a chai latte and a cronut and got my phone out. It seems David had been talking to this ‘D’ for quite a while. He met her in Phuket. He was there for some work beano, or as David calls them, ‘conferences.’ Some messages from David seemed very desperate. ‘D’ wasn’t responding to his calls or texts. After about eight days and 30-odd messages, he finally hears from ‘D’. Dora (I doubt this was her real name) had lost her phone and didn’t have the money to get a new one. iPhones are expensive, iPhone only. Other girls at the bar she works in will make fun of her if her phone isn’t an iPhone. David sends her the money for a phone. She sends him selfies, taken on her new phone. I’m not sure what to do with this information. Especially the part of the information where Dora is claiming to be pregnant. That’s if, of course, sending a photo of yourself grinning inanely whilst holding a positive pregnancy test counts as pregnant.
When I get home, the house is quiet and warm. I got David’s phone out of the bin. I put it next to the sink. I must have dropped off to sleep on the sofa because I’m woken by David’s shouting. He was standing in the kitchen, looking at his phone. He’s shaking.
“It wasn’t there! It wasn’t!”
Next thing, he’s pouring himself some wine and to say he gulped down two mouthfuls at the speed of light was an understatement.
“If that’s you, Kate, you’ve got to stop it! If you don’t stop…” He suddenly said, in a voice I didn’t recognise. I laughed. I’d heard all those threats before. He knew as well as I did. It didn’t have to be like this. But if anyone needed to stop it, it was him. Where did he get off treating me like this?
I found myself in the back garden. We made this garden together. Pre-Sammy, we had barbecues and parties. David’s interest in the garden had waned in the last year, like his interest in me, I suppose. I looked into the house through the glass of the French doors. David was on the phone. We didn’t speak for the rest of the evening.
I’m not sure where the time went, because it’s the next evening and David is talking to a woman in the kitchen. She looks a bit like Alanis Morissette, same hair, same vibe, you know?
She’s smiling, tossing her hair around. Flirting. And what is David doing, you might well ask?
He’s literally speaking about me like I’m not here! I pick up a cup and throw it to the floor. I follow the cup with the entire contents of the cutlery drawer.
“Is she normally this violent?” The woman asks, as she lights what appears to be a tightly wrapped bundle of dried herbs. David can’t speak; he’s as white as a sheet.
Who is this woman? Who is this strange woman in my house! Can’t she see me? I am angry.
“Get out of my house!” I scream into her face.
“I’m sorry David, but your wife? She doesn’t know she’s dead.”
Winner (11 years and under): The Magic World’s Problem, by Aaliyah Connolly
We live in a world where magic is a myth, but I think magic is real!
Long ago there was a world where gnomes, elves, unicorns and fairies lived. This world was a happy place until one fateful day…
Magna, the Queen of the world, was going to bed when she saw a dreadful thing. An asteriod was coming. Queen Magna knew this day would come so she worked on potions and spells. But nothing worked. Then she realised that her world would have to move worlds, but when they move worlds, their magic would disappear! Queen Magna thought and thought about losing their magic until she said ‘‘So be it’.
So the big move began.
Each family walked onto the ship very slowly. They didn’t want to leave their home. In a few slow days the people of the realm were ready.
The world searched for a new world and very soon found one, but the Queen needed to make a few rules. The Queen waited until the right time to tell the people the rules.
When the time came, she said ‘‘In this world, as you know, we do not have magic. But I think we can survive without it.’’ She also said ‘‘WE WILL NOW CALL OURSELVES HUMANS’’.
Winner (12-15 years): The Timekeeper’s Pendant, by Danielle Esmolina
In the bustling city of Aeternum, where the old world met the new, a young clockmaker named Leo discovered a mysterious pendant tucked away in the attic of his late grandfather’s shop. The pendant, intricately designed with gears and gemstones, appeared to be an antique, but it held a secret that defied time itself.
One evening, while examining the pendant under the light of a full moon, Leo accidentally activated its hidden mechanism. He was transported back in time to the medieval era of Aeternum. The city was now a small village, and Leo found himself in a world of knights, alchemists, and ancient prophecies.
‘‘Where am I?’’ Leo wondered aloud, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings.
Then a young woman approached him. ‘‘You look lost,’’ she said. ‘‘I’m Elara, the guardian of the Temple of Time. Perhaps I can help you.’’
Realising that the pendant allowed him to travel through different time periods, Leo explained his situation to Elara. Intrigued, she agreed to assist him in uncovering the pendant’s origins and purpose.
Together, they navigated treacherous landscapes, outsmarted time-travelling adversaries, and solved cryptic riddles. Along the way, Elara shared the legend of the Timekeepers, a secret society dedicated to preserving the balance of time.
‘‘The pendant,’’ Elara explained, ‘‘is part of a greater artefact, the Chronos Compass. It has the power to alter the course of history, but it must be used wisely.’’
Their journey took them to various ancient civilisations, the Renaissance, and even glimpses of a dystopian future. Each time period presented its own challenges and allies, but also brought them closer to understanding the true nature of time and destiny.
In the climactic finale, Leo and Elara faced an enemy named Malachai, who sought to misuse the Chronos Compass for his own gain, threatening to unravel the fabric of time.
‘‘You can’t control time, Malachai!’’ Leo shouted. ‘‘It’s too powerful and unpredictable.’’
Malachai sneered. ‘‘You underestimate me, I will rewrite history!’’
With courage, Leo and Elara managed to outwit Malachai, securing the compass and restoring balance. As the dust settled, Leo realised that the true power of the pendant, was not its ability to change the past or future but was in understanding and embracing the present.
‘‘It’s time for me to go back,’’ Leo said, feeling a mix of gratitude and sadness. ‘‘Thank you for everything.’’ Elara smiled warmly.
‘‘Remember, the present is a gift. Cherish it and make the most of it.’’
With final goodbyes, Leo activated the pendant one last time and returned to his own time, forever changed by his adventures.
He stood in his grandfather’s attic, holding the pendant with a newfound appreciation for the legacy of his grandfather and the intricate tapestry of time itself.
From that day on, Leo lived each moment to the fullest, cherishing the present and sharing his expreiences. The lesson he learned was a timeless one – True strength comes from accepting our past, learning from it, and using those lessons to shape a better future.
