I didn’t win. You can see the shortlisted stories here; congratulations to those who made it! The bright side of this is that it means I have a story that I can share with you. I’d love to know what you think, so here, without further ado, is my interpretation of the theme, entitled Paradise Regained.
If you close your eyes, he said, a pomegranate tastes like rain.
A Land Rover exploded in a desert, left him blind. Adjusting was hard, he said, but you learn to live. Differently. Better.
Taste this, he said, holding out a piece of pomegranate. Close your eyes and taste.
They talked at a whisper in the Garden of Eden. The kitchen doors clunked back and forth. Pans clattered. Footsteps slapped on the vinyl floor.
It was raining when they left. He said: close your eyes, again, and feel it on your skin. Like ladybirds, she said, or a baby’s fingers feeling.
They held hands as they walked to Trafalgar Square. By the fountains he said: Do you trust me? Yes, she said, doubt in her eyes unseen.
Do what I do, he said, opening the buttons of his shirt. Close your eyes and you won’t feel ashamed.
They danced naked in the fountains in the rain; she tasted pomegranate in his kiss.