Congratulations to the winners of our September competition. Feeling inspired? Have a go at this month's prompt.
We froze. I looked at the clock, he'd got off early. His steps got louder coming through the house.
"Quick," I say, throwing my lover's clothes at him. "Ye'll hae ti lowp oot the windae."
"Aye! Dad disnae ken an this is nae gonna be ma coming oot story."
Gach Là na Bliadhna Ùire
aig deich mionaidean roimh dhà air an uaireadair
bidh mi a’ fosgladh ceas
bidh mi a’ togail na plaide tungaidh
tuitidh gainmheach orm
cuimhnichidh mi do bhilean saillte
ach spealg do bhàta air Biastan Thuilm
glacaidh mi a’ phlaideag
caithidh mi i
Translation by Gaelic Books Council
Every New Year’s Day
at ten to two on the clock
I open a case
I lift the damp blanket
sand falls on me
I remember your salty lips
but your boat splintered on the Beasts of Holm
I take up the little blanket
and wear it
like a shroud.