Text: Solveig Hansen, 2019
When Australian Writers’ Centre asked their community to write a 23-word story that contained the words WINTER, WRITER, and SILHOUETTE, many wrote something along the lines of being a silhouette of a wintery writer. I, too, would have written about frozen words and waiting for spring. Here are two with a little different feel:
My boss’ silhouette is unfriendly. Frosty enough it could be winter in there. I enter anyway. “I quit,” I say. “I’m a writer.”
The oncoming headlights cut through the icy winter fog. Without warning the silhouette of a rhinoceros appeared. The writer smiled, a story formed.