Literary Honors – Excerpts
I am so proud to have the first Naked Girls Reading Literary Honors Awards. We received many great submissions from around the world. Our team of Naked Girls has picked the top 5 finalists and have delivered them to 5 judges. The judges are picking their favorites now. It’s so hard to choose! Here are some excerpts from the finalists (in no particular order). The pieces will be read in their entirety at the Literary Honors Awards Gala on Nov. 19th at the Everleigh Social Club. Enjoy!
She grabbed the ends of her blanket and twirled and the drape flowed like waves behind her. She danced for me and around me. It was the most beautiful thing that anyone had ever done for me. Never in my life did I want more than to be the unstoppable force. Just so that I could run away with her. Take her into my arms and never stop moving.
From “Some Thoughts on Being Unstoppable” by Stephen Moorehead (Seattle, Washington)
I will miss your hands. I had noticed the scar that first day when you held out a coffee for me to take: a sharp line running down the length of your index finger, all healed and rigid. Perhaps you cut it while peeling a mango – for someone. I trace it with my index finer. Bump.
From “An Indefinitely Short Space of Time” by Holly Bruns (Ontario, Canada)
Two elderly women stood twenty paces apart on the crowded, shrub edged lawn of the Windale Care and Rehabilitation Center. Two women with tight lips and pistols on creaking hips.
Shirley Connet was the owner of seventy-six years and Marlene Fenn had seventy-nine. Both possessed the medically noted, grandiose delusion that they were Annie Oakley.
Late October leaves scattered past wheelchairs. Reverent onlookers rubbed palms together at patio tables. Aimless walkabouts and patients of assorted debilitating afflictions knew better than to congregate to the north or south given the possibility of stray bullets.
From “The Two Annies of Windale Road” by Patty Templeton (Chicago)
We carefully set out the material, covering the Mingus records one by one. Impassive, he explains that he could not ethically commemorate the death of the greatest composer the world has ever known and earn money selling one of his LPs. To avoid having to tell a potential buyer to come back the next day to get a Mingus record, he prefers to hide the stock until tomorrow.
From “Le Deuil de Franck” by Maxime Courban – translated from the French by Nikki Halpern (Paris, France)
Mr. January is the face of clean living and resolutions kept. In his fireman’s suspenders, he has the kind of muscled, but not overly-muscled chest that reveals a good year of conscientious workouts at the gym. His chest hair, blond of course, has become wiry and coarse. I’m glad to see the charity photographer hasn’t made the firemen wax their chests, or engage in other kinds of pre-photo shoot grooming.
All the things I could have learned about men, about honourable, honest men, I could have learned from Mr. January when his shoulders were broader and his waist narrower.
From “Mr. January” by Kate Baggott (Ontario, Canada)