As stories come in during the day, we’ll be uploading them here. Come back and visit this page to read the latest.

All submissions are 100-words or fewer, on the theme of the longest day. Happy reading and, if you’ve been inspired to have a go, happy writing.



by Helen Chambers

You wake early: grey dawn slithering round the curtains and urgent birdsong bursting through the open window. Time, that tricksy thief, steals several hours in the few more minutes you allow for dozing. It trips over itself in its haste to overtake you. You both race to catch his train, sticky and anxious, and he jumps through the closing doors as you thrust his bag after him.

No time for goodbye.

You wander home alone the burning sun, bereft, counting each second as time drags slowly to a halt, trickling like the beads of sweat pooling down your back.

by Sherry Fuller

Today isn’t exceptional. Each one the same. Grey beige mind-numbing passing of time whilst no time passes.

The phone: the boss. She tells me the team have been complaining. The drones, they watch each other. They tell me, she says, you’re taking longer lunch breaks. They tell me, she says, you’re arriving late and leaving early.

Lunch breaks. A brief, so brief, chance to bask in the sun, to listen to rustling leaves, to watch a butterfly flit from flower to flower, to be alive…

I long ago accepted I’m not on Earth to be alive.

I’m here to work.

The Longest Day – Out There
by Andrew L Reynolds

He used to like the long days of summer.

Now, every time he works a shift, the defuse corona of the sun sinks lower in the eastern sky and the crimson hue of the clouds grows darker.
His clock and calendar say he’s been at the Magellan 6 colonial mining station for 184 days, but outside, dusk hasn’t yet given way to the long dark of night.

Venus spins slowly as it speeds around the sun. A Venusian year is shorter than a single Venusian day. A day that is over 5391 earth-hours long.

He used to like the long days of summer, but he liked the short nights even more.

by Tony Oswick

A sentry stands on guard
and watches changing subtle hues
and season’s span.
Light gently stirs,
a shift so slight in nature’s balance
as the sun defeats the night.
But you are gone
and in these darkest depths
today becomes my longest day.

Wivenhoe’s Walking Bus
by Philippa Hawley

Bus? Bus? Walking bus?
3, 6, 12 of us.
Feet stroll but wheels roll
Muscles burn – wheels turn
Walkers breathe – suspensions heave
Walkers chatter – passengers natter
Walk and talk – or ride and glide.
Get out and about, no need to hide,
Take the bus, find your stride.
June’s longest day, come if you may,
The map on the tree will show you the way.

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