Looking for Nora

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Living in central Scotland, Eilidh G Clark is a writer of touching short stories and poetry. She recalls lazy summer holidays spent in the back garden, drawing pictures in her notebooks, writing short stories to go with them and imagining that she might one day become a modern day Enid Blyton. Eilidh continued to scribble her way through school and teenage years. After spending a few years blogging she has since had her poetry and articles published in local and national magazines and newspapers, including The Ogilvie, Anti-Heroine Chic and FTP Magazine.

With a twenty year background in retail management, Eilidh returned to education and in 2016 graduated from the University of Stirling with a first class BA (Hons) degree in English Literature. Following her undergraduate degree, she went on to do a MLitt degree in Creative Writing. In addition to studying, Eilidh works part-time as an assistant manager. Her hobbies include reading, photography, and spending quality time with her partner and two chocolate Labradors.

We are proud to present Eilidh’s short story Looking for Nora as our Story of the Week. It is a touching tale about the importance of remembrance and the difficulty of letting someone go.

Enjoy!

‘She pulled a bunch of ribbons from her jacket pocket, selected a red one, then squeezed it in the palm of her hand.

‘I wish,’ she said, and closed her eyes, ‘I wish that today will be the day that I find you.’

She took the ribbon to the large elm tree and tied it onto a low hanging branch. It flapped lazily in the breeze. From her backpack, she pulled out a folded handkerchief and unwrapped it. It held a rusty nail with a battered head, but with a newly sharpened tip. Crouching down to half her height, she traced her finger over the neatly carved lines already on the tree trunk. Nineteen lines for nineteen years, and the first, still as deep as the day her father helped her carve it. She pressed the nail into the bark, and tapped it with a large stone that she’d found by the loch. She carved line number twenty.’ Read more…