The fish escaped;
the bird didn’t give up.
The fish went deeper;
away from the poking beak of the bird.
The bird readied for another dive,
for that other fish.

It does not matter now, she thought. Nothing does. She will close her eyes and everything will disappear. The world. The tears. The pain. That was what she hoped for, that was what she believed in, that was what she had never tried before. Because if she tried and it didn’t work, she would have nothing left to have faith in. Because if she closed her eyes and the pain were still there, she would be broken. She would be destroyed. Ruined. Quashed.

She walked to St. Mary Magdalene’s clutching a tan trench coat around her body.
It was the coat he had given her just two nights prior to his death and far too big for her lithe frame. Stopping just below her ankles it would have dragged the ground if not for her stiletto boots. Nevertheless, the coat protected her from the bitter winter wind, just as it had protected her from the splatters of blood the night he died.

Tabitha creased her sweater once again and wiped her tears.
She didn’t want him to know she’d been crying. He’d hate that.

Her eyes searched for that familiar face in the crowd that descended from the escalator.
Must be any minute now. She clenched on the barriers that prevented her to rush through the customs and find Carl herself.

They met in a formal dinner. She was nervous. He was sweet. They both led very busy lives with very demanding careers. He managed to make quite an impression, until he took her to the middle of the floor, and asked her to dance the chicken dance with him. In a black-tie formal event. Utterly shocked, her eyebrows shot up as she asked him, “You’re joking right?”

“Alright hun.” Claire asks as we start unloading the car. I could only shrug. My best friend Claire and her boyfriend were helping me sell my stuff at the local car boot sale. It was early Sunday morning and Kieren and I would still be in bed right now, reading the papers and eating breakfast if he hadn’t left me just over a year ago.

It was a really busy place with so many interesting stalls and people. So many people clearing out to make room for the new.

She woke up and instantly checked the clock. 3 am. Not that bad, she thought. Yesterday it was 2 am, the day before she had not have any sleep at all. She hardly could sleep since he had gone. How could she sleep if he was not there. She was sitting on her bed, looking around, waiting, ready to see him enter the room. Though she knew he never would.

I do not want you to bore with all the details as you are sure excited to know the results. I only will tell you that we have received 27 entries, short stories and fiction, happy and sad, romantic and touching, some might even be real stories (you can never tell). All the stories were amazing and I do hope you will read them if you have not read them yet. All the stories are posted on our Facebook Group (you can join it by clicking here - http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=86909277471&ref=ts). To read the entries you only should click on Discussions Tab.

Remember how 2 weeks ago we have started here on The Colors Magazine a new section called Monday Questions? I never expected such a great response. The thing is that we all have unanswered questions that haunt us, totrure us, take our peace away. And I hope that some of the answer can be helpful for you, or that you have answers that could be helpful for others.

“Take up that Kentucky incense and smoke it, Bernerd!” the old woman said, pointing to the hand rolled cigarette in the ashtray of the fifty-four Fairlane, “A man of yer age and ya ain’t learnt better than ta’smoke.” She scowled folding over the top of her leather purse, “Old fool,” she grumbled.

Bernerd reached over and butted out his homemade smoke never taking his eyes off the night road. “Only and old fool would take an old crank like yew ta’the hospital in the dead’ a night, Ethel. Now hush, I’m in heavy traffic.”

As you all know these days we are hosting a writing contest. Tell Your Love Story is a contest when you write a love story, personal or someone else’s, fiction or real, sad or happy, beautiful or ugly, in any possible form, be it a poem, an essay, a story or something more original. But no more than 500 words. All the guidelines can be found here - http://www.thecolorsmagazine.com/2010/03/tell-your-love-story-contest/. Contest’s deadline is April 9th.

First of all, Show Your Best - February Blog Contest is closed. We have received 20 submissions which is less than for janyay contest but still a decent amount of wonderful blog posts. The results will be announced this Saturday, March 20.

Meanwhile you can take part in another contest here on The Colors Magazine. Tell Your Love Story writing contest. It is completely free and you all are welcome to participate and who us what you have got.

And yes, you still can vote for me over here http://nekonette.com/contest/vote.php to help me win. Thanks a ton to those who already have voted.

This is a girl whose writing will inspire you, will keep you thinking and wondering. This is a girl who would surprise you with her writing even when you think that it is not possible. You wonder if it is really so? Check out her blog Humming Today. She started that blog almost 3 years ago, in March 2007. As she said back then “I’m here to explore..inspire..and aspire”

And so she did, for 3 years already.