2014 Writivism Short Story Prize Submission Guidelines

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Writivism

Opening date – 8 February 2014

Closing date – 30th April 2014
Entries must be submitted online, on the Writivism website. No mark as to the identity of the writer should be made on the story itself. No entries will be considered if submitted after this date. The competition long-list (of fifteen to twenty five stories) shall be announced on the 15th of May 2014 and the short-list (of five stories) on the 1st of June 2014. Winners shall be announced on Short Story Day Africa, the 21st of June 2014 at an Awards Evening during the Writivism Mini-Festival 2014 in Kampala, Uganda.
1. The Writivism Short Story Prize is an annual award for emerging African writers administered by the Center for African Cultural Excellence (CACE).

2. Entrants must be unpublished writers, resident in an African country. One is deemed published if they have a book of their own.

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Trudge On

We revel at the end of this tireless and seemingly timeless day
Fatigue later strolls in
Numbs our minds to rest further and further….
But a voice at night gently prods:

The night is short and fleeting like slippery time
Sooner than this day will end
Another shall soon begin
To unleash its unknown unknowns;
So relent not you weary travellers
Give in not to slumber all through the night
Awake and arise before the routine sun
The journey, in which you trudge, has not met its end
It further continues beyond this euphoric fog

One Exam Night

The night is donned in sequined black
So black, my melting candle is promoted to a relegated sun:
A dancing leaf-shaped fire held in place by wick

The occasional scurries and squeaks are of those
Timorous vermins playing hide and seek
In the night where my sun cannot reach

Oceans of caffeine have drowned sleep to coma
I am partially lost in a forest of processed leaves
I leaf through another leaf that would be precarious to leave;
Dried ink of familiar tongues long drafted in dusty tomes
Transforms into a mixture of Aramaic and other unknown tongues

Sprawled beside me in the bosom of sleep,
Emitting a concordance of snores, is the forbidden apple
Seductive in rounded curves
Highlighted by this dancing fire on dying wick
My tongue is flooded with desire

But I pause my arm in mid air:
Not
tonight
serpent,
Not tonight…

Scurry sounds across the room…

The clothed night gives a strip tease…

My erect candle further dwindles…

This forest still is thick