We meet at 7:30pm on
the first Thursday of
each month at
The Biffa Room,
St. Mark’s Church,
(off Avon Drive),
Bedford, MK41 7UY
Visitors (18 and older) and prospective members are VERY welcome, whether experienced writers, beginners, or just curious. Simply turn up on the night or contact us by clicking on the 'Get in Touch' icon for an interesting, enjoyable, and possibly instructive evening.
by John Broadhouse
On a cold frosty morning in a London street during the 1800’s, Ebenezer Scrooge stops by a beggar who asks for money, “Here take this crown and buy a hot drink and food, I don’t want you to freeze to death, God knows you’ve had a bad run of luck, it could have happened to any of us.”
Scrooge hurries to open his counting house, time for business, mustn’t keep Bob Cratchit waiting in the cold, he’s such a loyal clerk I must give him a pay rise this Christmas, how he manages on his pay, especially with his crippled son Tiny Tim & large family to feed.
Later that day two portly gentlemen enter his premises asking for a charitable donation which Scrooge happily offers.
That evening Scrooge is visited by the ghost of Jacob Marley, his former business partner, “You will bankrupt yourself giving away all this money to people who don’t deserve it.”
“They do”, replied Scrooge.
“Let me show you, hold my hand and you will see who they really are, they can’t see you, you are there to observe.”
The beggar spends the money on alcohol, the two portly gentlemen spend the money on themselves, Bob Cratchit has been fiddling the books and Tiny Tim pretends to be a cripple to earn money from sympathy.
“Don’t show me anymore kind spirit, I trusted them, what should I do.”
“Choose your friends more wisely and let them earn your trust.”
The Little Match Girl (alternate ending)
by Muriel Waldt
Edith had waited so long for Arthur to arrive and eight years on she still found it difficult to refuse him anything. But this! Well this went beyond the realms of giving in to him.
‘Arthur darling,’ she said, ‘we can’t take in homeless people, it’s just not done.’
‘But mummy, the snow is already deep and she’ll die of cold if she stays out there all night.’
Edith looked across the road at the small figure huddled in the empty shop doorway and knew in her heart that this was not about giving in to her son. It had broken her heart to learn that there would be no more children after Arthur, but oh, how she longed for a little girl, and the truth was, there was one, just a few feet away just waiting to be plucked like a flower out of the snow. Could she do it? Or could she live with the child’s death on her conscience?
As she watched, the child started to light up the matches that she was trying to sell and the glow from them lit up her face with such luminescence that Edith was momentarily breathless. It seemed as if whatever she was feeling behind that glow had taken her to another world, one where life was not cold and cruel. Suddenly Edith’s indecision disappeared. Rushing to the front door she ran across the road and lifted the child into her arms knowing instinctively that this was the right thing to do.
This year our Christmas exercise was to re-write a classic Christmas story as a poem or short story of around 250 words - here are a couple of examples of what the members wrote.