This year, with the inaugural Blackwell’s Short Story Prize, Cherwell aimed to reconnect with its roots as a literary magazine in the 1920s, when our undergraduate contributors (including Evelyn Waugh, Graham Greene, and W.H. Auden) showcased the best of Oxford’s creative talent. We received nearly 30 entries, and they were all of an exceptionally high standard. The judge Dr Clare Morgan, Course Director of the MSt Creative Writing at Oxford, offered her congratulations to the shortlisted entries, including this one.
301:301
My opponent stands behind the line, darts in hand. What started as a bustling bar, a cacophony of cheers, has fallen into pin drop silence. Sixteen competitors became two.
Three darts fly in quick succession.
15, 10, 17
259:301
I step up, not making eye contact with my competitor. I’m not playing her; I’m playing the board. Staring straight at the 20, I aim and shoot.
5
I attempt to steady my hand. I throw again.
5
Damn it.
12
259:279
I step back to my teammates. “You got this.” Whispers Jen. I return a half-baked smile. Her words normally reassure me, but here they give no relief. As much as she tries, she can never understand. This is my last chance.
8, 7, double 8
228:279
My turn again. My heart is racing. I need this win.
Treble 7
The pounding in my chest lessens. My opening darts were just a fluke. If I can hit a treble 7, I can hit a treble 19, and if I can hit a treble 19, then treble 20 is within my reach.
19
The dart lodges itself up against the wire. It’s close to the triple, too close. I need to shift my aim down and right.
3
228:239
Winners don’t throw 3’s. The match is basically over, may as well go home now.
I’ve been watching this girl play and she is nothing if not consistent. My darts style is a little more… sporadic. At my second session with the team Jen called me a “wildcard” and I burst out laughing. Back then, the title felt completely antithetical to how I saw myself. Now I have to embrace it.
Because I need this win.
11, treble 8, 7
186:239
She’s playing it safe and running away with it. If she’s aiming for 16 then her misses are 8’s and 7’s. We’ve all seen how badly my gambits are paying off. My 20’s become 5’s and my 19’s are 3s. It’s a poor showing for a final. I aim again.
12
When I used to run my mind would go blank during competitions. I’d disappear into myself until I crossed the finish line. In darts, my mind wanders. I’ve learnt to allow the tangents to occupy my attention. If I overanalyse my throws it puts me off even more.
I used to pretend the dartboard was Marcus’s face. His perfect, sculpted, posh-boy central London face. Although I’m less over the break-up than I pretend to be, my need to imagine repeatedly firing darts into him has lessened. Until today, when I saw a photo of him for the first time in months.
Treble 5
She was one of his friends from sixth form. Long dark straight hair and supermodel legs. I never thought much about her until I saw those legs wrapped around him in that scantily clad beach pic that graced my home page.
“It’s basically pornographic” said Jen when I showed it to her “Don’t these people’s parents follow them?”
Double 20
186:172
I’m back in the game. I can hear Jen’s relief as she grabs my arm and squeezes tightly. Other than myself, this win would mean the most to her. Varsity Darts is her baby. She created this club in her second year and has dedicated most of her time to it since. She wasn’t even doing it for a Blue, she just loves the game. It was Ben, with a friend at Cambridge, who suggested the competition. From then on she was a woman possessed to get Darts Society to Blue status. It always makes me giggle to imagine her standing in front of a bench of actual athletes, reciting her impassioned speech. Their answer – “sure, whatever.”
I feel guilty in a way, she’s been working at this for ages and I only joined at the start of Michaelmas under duress from my mother. Before I went back to Oxford she sat me down and told me the time for moping was over. She pulled out her laptop and showed me her picks for clubs I should join to “Get back out there.”
I chose darts to appease her, largely because it was the only one of her suggestions you could drink at without looking like an alcoholic. I used to play with my grandad on family holidays so I knew I was decent. I never expected to end up here.
11, Double 14, 10
151: 172
10’s an odd choice, can’t be deliberate. Have I shaken her? I got tops last round. If I can get a treble 20 the game is mine.
My summer after finals was more subdued than my coursemates. Kicking off the long vac by getting dumped wasn’t particularly pleasant. I got none of my top choices for my fourth-year project and the physio said my ankle still couldn’t take enough weight to start running again. My finals results arrived unceremoniously, a low 2:1 put the final nail in my coffin.
1
There’s playing risky and then there’s playing badly. I don’t yet know what sort of player I am.
I don’t even know who I am.
1
There’s an audible inhale from the Oxford side of the bar.
My mum has a photo on her fridge of me on matriculation day. It’s not an official one, my best mate Sarah took it on her phone. I looked at that photo a lot this summer, wondering what first-year me would think of my life now. She’d be baffled as to why I wasn’t running, embarrassed that I wasn’t anywhere near the top of my class, and confused as to where my friends had gone.
20
151:150
Ex-best mate is probably a more accurate term for Sarah. We haven’t spoken in two years. I’m aware she graduated last summer. I should have sent her a text but I feared the inevitable “I told you so” about Marcus.
My opponent throws her darts. Before I can comprehend what’s happened, I hear cheering from the Cambridge team.
16, 16, Double 19
81:151
Sarah dropped the criticism after she realised Marcus wasn’t going anywhere. She was always judgemental, yet principled too. She lived within her means and never forgot where she came from. When I told her I was going on the Ski trip, she laughed.
Double 11
“But you’ve never skied a day in your life. Skiing isn’t for people like us – it’s natural selection for the rich.” She smiled like she was joking, but I knew she believed it.
14
After I fell skiing, after I broke my ankle, after I had surgery, after months of pain, after I had to give up running, I phased her out. I could feel the self-righteousness hiding behind her concern. Marcus told me he never liked her anyway, and that was that.
Triple 8
81:90
I miss Sarah, I miss Marcus too sometimes, but the thing I miss most is running. The serenity of it, the peace that I could only find by myself. I think I would have gotten over losing it much easier if it was just a hobby but I was good. I was so good. I was on track for a Blue – a near miss at varsity in first year but I was confident about second year, everyone was.
Triple 7, 19, Double 18
35:90
It’s all over, she can win on her next throw. For me to have any chance I need to get Triple 20.
12
After I aced my prelims Marcus joked. “Look at you – on track for the triple threat.”
A first, a blue, and a spouse. They say everyone leaves Oxford with at least one. I could have all three. I was going to have all three.
18
Then I broke my ankle. My degree got difficult and the work piled up. To top it all off, Marcus broke up with me because our “trajectories didn’t align.”
So here I am in the last chance saloon, also known as the Brasenose college bar.
18
35:54
She’s going to win – she knows it too.
15
Your last dart must hit a double. If she hits the double 10 it’s over.
10
I can feel the tears swimming in my eyes. This was my last chance. My last chance at being something, at leaving this god-forsaken city with something to be proud of.
5
5:54
She blew it. I have three darts. I can salvage a win.
I need this win.
14
I aimed for 14 without really thinking. I’ve got tops before and I can do it again. If I was being logical I would have gone for double 11, but I have no logic left, only hope.
I need this win.
Miss
It lands just above where it needs to be.
One dart. I aim again
I need this win.
Double 20
5:0
And the crowd erupts.
Winner: “The Ghosts She Felt Acutely” by Polina Kim
Runner-up: “Letter from the Orient” by Dara Mohd
Shortlisted entries:
- “A Short Sharp Shock to the Skull” by Jim Weinstein (pseudonym)
- “Rhonda May” by Matt Unwin
- “Any Blue Will Do” by Kyla Murray
- “SPLAT!” by Sophie Lyne
