The second FABO Story Competition for 2018 is here. Award-winning children’s author Melinda Szymanik has written a story starter and she wants you to finish the story.
This year, the Fabosters are having fun with Time Travel. A reluctant duo travels through time and space.
1. Read the story starter and continue the story.
2. Your story should be no more than 500 words.
3. You have two weeks to write your story, so there’s no need to rush! Take your time and send us the best story you can write.
4. Send your story to us by 8pm Friday May 25.
5. Every fortnight a children’s author will post a new story starter for you. The stories will follow on with the same two characters.
6. The winner of the previous competition will be announced on this website a few days after that competition closes.
Illustration by Ronja Schipper
Lost in the PE Shed Vortex: Episode Two
“Whew!” David exclaimed. “That was a lucky escape.”
They’d made it back to the shed. David held a squirming ratty firmly in his left hand.
“All we need to do is step back through the hoop,” Ella said, chewing at her bottom lip nervously. “Folk dancing is the worst. I thought I was going to die of boredom. And …. that person you were partnering with for the Hokey Pokey…”
“You mean Karen? She seemed really nice. And it’s the Hokey Tokey,” David corrected.
“That person you danced with, is my mum,” and Ella burst in to tears.
“Eww!” David twisted his mouth in a grimace. “Gross!”
“Don’t say that! Let’s not talk about it,” Ella sniffed. “I just want to go home.” And she grabbed David’s right hand because the thought of going alone frightened her more than the thought of holding his hand, and stepped into the circle of the hoop.
“We’re still here,” David said.
“No we’re not,” Ella said, pointing at the black gym smock now hanging from the hook on the back of the shed door, her eyes wide.
David swallowed. He looked around at the uncoloured, leather rugby and netballs done up with laces like a boot, at the metres and metres of thick ropes in snaking coils, and the pile of hoops just like theirs, but made out of bamboo cane, stacked in a tangle in the corner.
Ella stepped towards the door and opened it an inch peering out onto the court. David joined her and they goggled at the two rows of children standing out on the asphalt, the girls in gym smocks and the boys in grey buttoned down shirts and black shorts.
“What are they doing?” David asked. “Is … is that Mrs Satterworth?”
“It can’t be, can it?” Ella breathed.
They both strained to hear what the lady in charge was bellowing at the students.
“Our brave boys are fighting for our freedom in Gallipoli and across Europe, but that doesn’t mean there is nothing for us to do here. First, some marching to warm us up. Then boys, you will be filling sand bags and girls, you will be knitting socks.”
“It must be World War 1,” David said. “Hey!” he exclaimed. Ratty had bitten his hand and David let go, the animal popping out onto the floor and scurrying out the door. “Hey,” he said again. “What are you doing?”
Ella was pulling the gym smock on over her head. “I’m blending in. We have to save ratty. Maybe he’s the key to all this.” And she stepped through the doorway.