Year 2, Week 23: Results!

We had wonderful entries this week. Choosing the winners took a lot of re-reading of all the stories. Finally, these three were the ones that stuck with me.

Honourable Mention

Alva Holland with The Day of Reckoning

I really enjoyed this tongue-in-the-cheek piece. I liked how you used the prompt, making the protagonist dread her own creation. Well done.

Note:

orang-utans not orangutans.

Also, you could’ve kept it at “Oh, the horror!” instead of the longer sentence.

And check that your story is in the same tense (present, past, future) and point of view (omniscient, limited third person, first person) throughout.

First Runner-Up

Benjamin Langley with The Door, The Wall, The Stairs

Effective use of the prompt. Your protagonist had a good idea of what awaited her – even her past experiences were making it worse in her mind. So often people keep quiet instead of speaking up – great character growth in this piece. Well done.

Note:

Use complete sentences: “The first time…” “It was her third visit…” “Her face was going to be a calamity…” etc. – sentence fragments have their place, but using too many weakens the prose.

Decide what you’re going to call your protagonist: in such a short piece, it’s best to stick to one name, e.g. Dr Winters.

For effect, I would’ve placed the patient’s name in a new paragraph and her injuries in the next.

Start dialogue in a new paragraph.

Because you use the title as the name for the patient’s abuser, it has to be written in capital letters in the story, too. E.g. “…her view of Mary was the Door, the Wall and the Stairs.”

In the last paragraph, when she reflects on it later, you have to use past perfect tense: “that Mary had given Henrietta” – it’s the past and you’re already writing in the past tense.

Winner Y2W23

Firdaus 

with Alternate Reality

I really enjoyed this great piece of speculative fiction. Loved the twist ending. Well done.

Note:

I would’ve divided the long third paragraph in two to fit the look and feel of the rest of the story. (New paragraph: she shut the trapdoor…)

And remember spaces between paragraphs for easy reading (as shown below).

Alternate Reality

She pulled back the curtain, her eyes tightly shut. She felt the warmth of the sun on her face. Bracing herself for the horror that would come, she slowly opened her eyes. 

Nothing could have prepared her for the devastation before her. For as far as her eyes could travel, she only saw scattered bodies, some tangled in twisted metal of cars and lampposts and other debris. Buildings and houses had been flattened. They stood like jagged concrete stumps in the distance. 

Her breath came out in gasps. The stench of the rot nauseating her. She rushed back to the trapdoor in the corner of the room from where she had just crawled out; her safe haven for the past few weeks or months, she couldn't remember. She had been too scared to come out. Her meagre rations had almost depleted. The air underground had begun to get unbearable to breathe. She shut the trapdoor behind her and sat on the steps leading down. For a long time she sat there, she had run out of tears and ideas. Finally she gathered some courage and climbed back out. She had to find other survivors. 

As she stepped out of the house she heard a constant beeping sound. Then voices, a little muffled, but she could make out what they were saying. 

"She's coming back, she's coming back!"

"Check her vitals."

"Everything seems okay."

She heard someone calling her name. A familiar voice very far away. She felt her vision blur. She rubbed her eyes. When she opened them again she saw her husband leaning over her. 

"Welcome back," he smiled with tears in his eyes. 

"What the—" she tried to speak, her throat parched. 

"Shhh..." he cut her off, "it's okay, you've been asleep for a long time."

Thank you all for your participation! Until Saturday…

Year 2, Week 20: Results!

It wasn’t easy to judge this week’s fabulous entries. I read and reread, loving all the twists brought on by the prompt.

Finally, I knew which ones resonated with me. And why.

Announcement: Cracked Flash Fiction Competition is taking a hiatus for the holidays and will return for week 21 on the 7^th of January 2017.

 

Honourable Mention

Carin Marais with “The Sewer Rat”

The revenge-element along with facades – obvious and metaphorical – made this a great read. I grinned with glee at the end. Note: either indent paragraphs or leave a line open. Also, “gold leaf” and “voice box”.

First Runner Up

Angie with "My Abuse Kit"

So often the abuse on women is overlooked or brushed off as nothing. Loved the ending where the character had left her abuser and went on with her life.
 
Note: use paragraphs; start a new idea in a new paragraph; leave lines open between paragraphs. Use a colon after “ultimate truth” to emphasise that he didn’t like what he’d created. And a semi-colon between the sentences “I never lied about it; I simply omitted…” to bind those thoughts closer together. Also, don’t use capital letters after colons. Great read. 

Y2W20 Winner

Kelly Griffiths with "The Prettiest"

Dressing up corpses? Awesome! Loved the dark take on glittering things. Note: I removed the extraneous inverted commas in paragraph six.

 

      “Sometimes it’s better to hide the unsightly with shiny things than to try to fix it,” said the mother. “Grab that box of Christmas tinsel from the attic. And a fork.”

The child’s noisy rifling through the silver drawer induced a clamorous tune, followed by staccato thudding on the attic stairs. She returned breathless, holding a fork in one hand, a dusty red box in the other.

“This?” She asked, fingering the wayward silver strands.

The mother took the bright silver lengths and held them to the light. The tinsels flashed and shimmered, squirming in her arms like a lightning strike. She gravely handed the tinsel to the child. “You do the honors. It’s your first time.”

The child wrapped the silver noodles around her fork and jammed it in an eye socket.

“Yes, that’s it,” counseled the mother, “Now hold the tinsel down with your fingers and gently slide the fork out. Now the next one. We can stuff her mouth with dryer sheets soaked in cinnamon oil, so she doesn’t stink. Grab the red sequins and we’ll sew her mouth closed, but we’ll leave slits like a sachet. See?” The mother beamed with pride as her daughter bent to the work, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Yes, like that. Sew her mouth into a smile. You just have to pull hard on the thread. She can’t feel anything.”

“I think I hear her crying,” the child protested. See, where she’s coming apart?”

“Just use more tinsel. Wrap it like a necklace and no one will know her throat is cut.”

The child obeyed, her eyes widening at the transformation. A slight smile played at the corners of her tiny mouth.

“This is the prettiest Christmas doll ever, Mommy.”

“Almost as pretty as you,” murmured the zombie.

 

 

Thank you all for your participation! Until January…

 

 

Year 2, Week 17: Results!

I loved this week’s prompt – it had me writing until late on my NaNoWriMo novel. As I read through the entries, I was amazed at the different takes on it.

 

First Runner Up

Angie with “Doomed Shipwreck”

I enjoyed this. Very vivid descriptions of this strange sea. I can even see it as a strange metaphor for bathing the dog. Great twist ending. Good job!

 

In terms of constructive criticism: dividing the story into shorter paragraphs will ease reading. Also, repeating “the ship” and “Pulga” so close together (ending a sentence with it and starting the next with the same) weakens the idea: either find another word that conveys the same meaning, or rewrite the sentences to make them shorter and more powerful.

 

E.g. “Swirls of copper and bronze, typical of this region, flowed steadily past the ship on her maiden voyage. Pulga, a wealthy sheik living three continents over on Croup, had commissioned our ship and crew to find out the whereabouts of the Psýllos inhabitants of an island somewhere in this region.”

 

See that? The flow is better and all the words that didn’t contribute to moving the story forward had been cut. Also, the numeral was replaced with the word (the way we write in fiction for the most part) and the word “colors” was cut because we already know that “copper” and “bronze” are colours – don’t overload on adjectives. Mark Twain wrote: “When you catch an adjective – kill it.” And Stephen King believes that the road to hell is paved with adjectives. We don’t have to go that far – adjectives have their place in fiction, we just need to know when they are unnecessary and when they can give startling intensity to a noun.

 

Your story is very imaginative. Remember the basics when you read over your stories, making sure it flows, and your writing will soar.

 

 

Y2W17 Winner

 Benjamin Langley

 

with “Pioneers”

Ooh, a creepy, yet fascinating, take on the prompt. Did the experiment kill them, turn them into weird ghosts or some form of medium? I like the way you use the repetition of “three days” to show the awful state they’re in.

 

In terms of constructive criticism: I would’ve placed each confession in its own line for effect; the last line too. Don’t jump from past to present tense (there’s a lot of reasons for that – check out the Writer’s Digest or similar publication), though I understand that you wanted to go for a sense of immediacy – rather use the different types of past tense.

 

Using different punctuation marks will make some of your writing clearer: e.g. “… but on the third – as I said – shapes, no more than that: hazy and distant.” See how the dashes and colon changes the meaning slightly? The colon can even be replaced with ellipses for effect.

 

Remember to read through your writing to pick up on typos like “if” instead of “is” before the confessions start. Good job!

 

Pioneers

 
It took us three days before we started seeing shapes in the fog. Three days without sleep. Three days in the sole company of like-minded folk desperate enough to get involved in the kind of medical research that’s advertised on the dark web. Three days with nothing to eat but the meal-replacement bars laced with Dr Hoffmann’s experimental drug.

Pioneers. That’s what he called us every night before he sent us out into the graveyard. But he always remained on the other side of the door. Two dropped out immediately, refused to enter the graveyard. We lost five more over the next two nights, leaving only three of us: Tim with the lazy eye, a homeless woman called Mary, and me, who thought doing this would solve all my problems.

I thought this would be easy. On the first two nights, there was nothing but mind-crushing boredom, but on the third, as I said, shapes, no more than that, hazy and distant.

It’s day four.

“Pioneers,” Dr Hoffmann says. I’m not listening to the rest, because there’s another sound; it gets louder when he opens the door. Tim steps out first, cautiously, and I follow. I’m so exhausted it’s more of a shuffle than a step. I can hear Mary begging not to go, but then her voice if lost among others, a thousand people all talking at once: “I slept with my brother’s wife.” “I stole from the church.” “I slipped poison into my husband’s tea.”

The voices started to take on shape. People, long dead, confessing their sins, over and over. That’s when I realise where I am. Purgatory. I back away towards the sanctuary. I reach for the door, but my hand passes right through it. I want to call for help, but instead I confess.

 

 

Thank you all for your participation! Until Saturday…

 

Year 2, Week 5: Results!

HAHA! Guess what time it is? 

That's right! It's results time! It's Mars here at the judging panel this week, and I'm excited to bring you your latest batch of winners, fresh out of the oven! Many thanks to all who participated!

(I like exclamation points! Do I sound like a news reporter or commercial yet!? (Or a Rite-Aid reminder?)) 

Honorable Mention

TipTim's Hidden 

This was cleverly written; I got a laugh out of the twist at the end. It definitely reads like a horror story until that second-to-last line! The only part that feels really incongruous to me, after reading the whole thing, is the line about the POV character sweating profusely. I suppose if s/he were the type to sweat profusely anyways, it would be fine, but it seemed only to match the horror scenario. All in all, though, cute piece. Nice work!

First Runner Up

Teodora's Down with the Rats

I admit it: I'm a sucker for twist endings (and also traitors). Dan turning out to be an antagonist was enough to catch my attention, and as I comb through this piece more, questions start to pop up for me. How did the apocalypse start? What's this toxic waste that polutes the land & where did it come from? What world order is she talking about? How did Dan know she was the next biological weapon (or was that a lie)? It seems like the piece was trying to address too much in too little words--an admirable pursuit, but it can easily be tipped the incorrect way!

It never does at the ending that Dan actually shoots her (though the ominous phrase "You can rest all you want" would indicate "because I'm going to kill you now"), and some clues make me wonder about his motivations--specifically the part about him putting his jacket on her. Why do that if he was just planning to kill her? 

Anyways, I like the idea here, and I think it could be polished up into a great little gem. Good job!

Y2W5 Winner 

T.R.!

with Cobblestones and Carriages

It's a good thing I watched BBC's Sherlock, or else I certainly would not have realized what book they were in! The travel-into-a-book concept has been used before, but this one stands out to me; I've never seen it where if the book is destroyed, the book-jumpers are too. (Also, the swallowing of the book pages is new.) 

The only part missing from the story is why people are after them and why they need Sherlock! Some back story would have been nice, but this piece does stand alone well. 

The imagery and immersion of the piece struck me as very poignant and lovely (ironically, I suppose, since it's about destruction). This passage was my favorite (it sounds very poetic): 

Blood trickled from Gage's ears.
Then the sky tore in two. 

The way the piece is formatted adds significantly to the weight behind the words (and giving the illusion that there's a lot more story here than there actually is! (I may have put it into a word counter to verify it was really only 273 words)). Great job with this piece!

Cobblestones and Carriages 

“I said we’d be safer, not safe.” 

Gage’s words echoed out as Sheila slipped into the pages behind him. It was like falling into a dream. Lost in a wilderness of silence, she followed him through the fog and forgot what came before. 

The road split. The street signs lied. Head spinning, she looked down, then back up. Cobblestones and carriages. 

“Where are we?” 

“Come on,” Gage said. “They’re here.” 

They crossed the street, slipped down an alley. 

“Who?” 

He held his finger to his lips. She peered down the alley but saw no one. 

“What’s going on? Gage?” 

Two voices boomed from the sky, so loud the ground shook and the buildings shuddered. 

Where are they? 

Here. 

Where? 

Here. 

Blood trickled from Gage’s ears. 

Then the sky tore in two. 

It sounded like a page being ripped from a book, paper rending. 

Then she remembered. The book. The bitterness of the pages. Swallowing them, choking them down dry. The strange look in Gage’s eyes. The door knob jiggering behind them. If we can’t run, Gage had said, we’ll hide. 

And then she felt the rushing sensation, like falling. And now, this. Gods in the sky. Trapped in a book. The streets disappearing around them. 

“I thought you said we’d be safe,” she shouted. 

“I said we’d be safer, not safe.” 

Gage climbed the stairs to the only flat left on the street and knocked on the door. 

221B Baker St. 

“It was the first book I grabbed,” Gage said, smiling. “Good thing, too. If anyone can help, it’s him.” 

The door opened and a bent old man squinted into the bright light.

Congratulations, winners! Hope to see you Saturday :)

Year 1, Week 39: Results!

I regret nothing.

Mars apologizes for her tardiness in beginning to write the reviews (working two jobs seems to suck the time out of everything (and she's gonna move from her parent's house to her aunt's house (which is really only about 15 minutes away, but packing is still a thing))). 

She thanks you all for participating last Saturday (and putting up with varying schedules)! (As to any questions as to why there's only one judge this week: Rin might not be joining us as a judge again, so Si and Mars will alternate weeks).

And, without further ado, here are your results for Y1W39! 

Honorable Mention

Sara Codair's Deceit in the Dark

The rivalry here between pixies and vampires intrigues me and raises a number of questions: Why does the rivalry exist? Are they all out to murder one another? Are vampires or pixies evil in this story? It's a nice little hook (and the eyebrow raise amuses me). The use of the prompt in this piece fell a little flat for me; I keep re-reading the story and not understanding how the first few lines fit into the story; I feel like it begins as Victoria hisses. I do like the character emotions here, however (the pixie being all elfin and fantastical and Victoria just being shocked at being murdered and falling to pieces (can you imagine that? Terrifying)). Good job!

First Runner Up

Daisy Warwick's Needs Must

I've been there. Those days where I forgot to eat breakfast and forgot to pack a lunch. Soon enough, the only thing I can think about is food (and the rumbling stomach doesn't help), and it's impossible to not fixate on the thought or mention of food. I can sympathize with the vampire in this piece (though I probably would give a second thought about nomming a human . . . ), and I was amused by the main character's nonchalant demeanor. I wondered why s/he couldn't find a graveyard shift job, since it seems like that would be perfect kind of job for a vampire (work during the night, sleep during the day?) and hardly anyone wants to work that shift. I like the image I get of Edward Banks; I'm actually a little sad he got nommed because he seemed like an okay guy. Nice work.

Y1W39 WINNER!

Timothy Davis

with The Orchard

So, usually when I read the pieces, the title is the last thing I look at (if I do look at them, oops). I was pleasantly surprised to find that the title of this piece is "The Orchard", since my favorite line of the piece seems to be exactly what the title was referencing: "The bottles were beginning to form a row like an orchard of brown glass." The imagery here is very sharp and I get a feeling of dusty light filtering into this crapsack of a room and over this depressed man, hitting the glass and throwing pale brown, glass shadows everywhere. It's a very sentimental line for a very sentimental piece. 

I, too, wonder where Sally is, and what happened to make them divorce. The bittersweet reflection on the past tugs at the heartstrings, but also instills a deep curiosity for what occurred in between then and now to have brought Jared to this low point in his life. From the last uttered line, "What have I done?" the reader might infer that it was Jared's fault (he said or did something to Sally that caused her to leave), and the guilt that seeps into the darkness is poignant. The skull is another curiosity (it reminds me of Wilson from Castaway, and turns this piece into a psychological puzzle for me), and everything about this piece is such stark emotion and imagery (I can envision Jared sitting on his couch and despondently staring down at this skull, as if he wants it to explain why life is so crappy, but that answer won't ever come, because it's just a skull). (I didn't realize how much I like this piece until just now, by the way, as I write this review. Well done, Sir, well done.)

The Orchard

“But the nights belong to me,” he whispered to the skull on the center of Sally’s, his ex-wife, coffee table. They had picked it out together before they were married, before they were dating, and in that innocent-just-friends-awkward stage of development where holding hands seemed better than sex. It was one of those stories they told their friends, whom they had over for wine or dinner; a joke, really, because the salesperson thought they were a couple, which was always the punchline: "We were destined to be together," and then the room would erupt with laughter.

Now Jared was watching The Fifth Element on TBS and conversing with a novelty skull he had acquired via an online auction. He wondered where she was, took a swig of beer, and washed the thought away. He watched Bruce Willis over the round hilltop of his belly and sat the empty bottle next to the skull. The bottles were beginning to form a row like an orchard of brown glass. Jared pushed himself up from the cushions and brushed off his shirt. Sally would be more than livid if she saw the house like this. He leaned back, turned off the TV, and let the darkness sink on him. He could hear the neighborhood as if it were a singular organism, each kid’s squeal or dog’s bark or car’s horn a breath that seemed to have more gravity than the darkness of his living room. Even the chitter of katydids made him feel less alive, as though Sally were an essential part of his existence. 

“What have I done?” Jared asked the darkness, but there was nothing to reply.

Congratulations, all! 

See you this Saturday :)

Year 1, Week 37: Results!

Thanks to everyone that participated in this week's competition! We had an excellent set of stories to choose from, and are pleased to announce the winners!

I wanted a gif, so there is a gif. So there.

Honorable Mention

Shae Moloney's Not Without Risk

Mars: Both Peter and Dr. Mattson feel developed in this piece; the doctor's nervous drumming, Peter's claustrophobia(? as well as his internal remarks), and their dialogue between each other all lent to building images of these characters in my mind. I was disappointed by the ending, since it didn't really feel like an ending--well, that is to say, it felt like the end line to a story, but I don't feel like I got all the information that I should have. Why's Dr. Mattson terrified of what Peter came out as? Is he a monster, or is he way older, or is he way younger, or what? I do like how her earlier statement of, "I'd be more concerned about what would happen if it does [work]," makes one think about how this kind of technology would affect the world as we know it. Nice piece!

Rin: This story had good description, in both the setting and in Peter’s physical reactions to what was happening. Made it all believable, easy to envision and experience from the main char’s pov. The pace was smooth and the dialogue felt natural. Peter’s apprehension gave it a nice tension and his doubts in the project was a good conflict. My favorite bit was the wrap up. The wrap up was a perfect cliff-hanger, making me want to know what had happened to him and wish that there were more. Nicely done!

First Runner Up

Carin Marais The Garden Where the Gnomes Are Alive

Mars: I was pleasantly surprised by the ending of this piece (mostly because I missed the line, "but they still needed a bogey monster hunter" the first time I read it through); I was expecting the witch to turn out evil or something, instead of actually being the nightmare police. (And the gnomes amuse me.) I was really curious as to how the toys attract nightmares, and would have liked a small explanation on that (it's a really interesting idea, though). The story was very cute, and brought a smile to my face!

Rin: This was a fun story! I loved the idea of an elderly woman playing the role of the hero and a monster hunter at that. The boys were fun little characters and they all felt distinct from one another. The dialogue was good too. I liked how people were afraid of her because of her appearance and that what she did went unknown and therefore unappreciated, which I felt added to her character that she’d still do it despite being feared and unacknowledged. The end was cute and a nice touch, but I felt that it stretched just a bit too long. Over all, great story! Well done!

Y1W36 WINNER!

Sam Malkowski

with Problem Solving

Mars: Ohh, I just got the title (lightbulb: *flickers on*). She's solving the problem of not having her mother's attention by getting into trouble, ahh (yeeaah, I'm slow sometimes, but that makes this story all the better now, haha). This tale certainly evoked pity within me as I read it; it's terrible that she would actually have to cry out for attention by committing reckless acts. I do wonder what her father's role in all of this is. Are they close at all? The story only focuses on the daughter and mother, but is the father a support at all? 

I thought the dialogue could use more emphasis (not necessarily actual rich text (I know some commentators know how to do that, but I forget after about 30 seconds of being told how)). For example, "Not when I am this pissed," sounded stilted (it's amazing how much a contraction can change the sound of someone's voice) (and/or, if there was italicization/caps on a certain word:  "Not when I'm this pissed.")

I do like the details dropped into the piece that indicate the family's lifestyle (I get the feeling that they're at least on the upper-end of the middle class, if not an upper class (I mean, I don't have a maid)). (Also, can you get suspended for dyeing your hair in the girl's locker room? (I've never heard of someone trying to do this, mind you, so there's that--it just sounds like the kind of thing only a private school might get uppity about, but I don't know, lol!)) Good job with this piece!

Rin: I loved this story. I loved the way that the mother’s words were contrasted to dust catching in curtains and the mental imagery that it brought up. It was all easy to envision and the dialogue was done well. I liked the little hints dropped in here and there, like the house description and the maid, to tell us they’re well to do. The dialogue was good and the characters all felt distinct and whole, though realistically broken people. It all makes me wonder why their relationship is so strained and the way that the daughter does outrageous things trying to get her mother’s attention was so true to life. I loved how every little thing built upon the last until it formed a clear picture of their situation. My favorite line was ‘I was starting to miss her’. It was so small, but so important for the story, a tiny bit tucked in that spoke volumes and that last line was an excellent, heartbreaking wrap up. Fantastic story! Congrats!

Problem Solving 

"Seriously? You expect me to go in there?" 

Maybe my mother thought her voice would not carry into my hospital room. Maybe she thought her words would cling to the billowy cotton door between us like dust did on the curtains at home. Each syllable could cling to its own newborn-blue fiber, thickening until the room darkened with grime. Then the maid could shake them out onto the balcony and we would pretend they never existed at all. That our house was always pristine, spotless. Happy. 

"You're not going to see your daughter?" That's typical. My father is always some shade of bewildered when mother and I fight. Sometimes confused, sometimes annoyed. Never in the room long. 

"Not when I am this pissed. What would I say to her?" 

Mother and I say very little to each other on a regular basis. We have our daily school and weather updates but I would not call that talking. The last time we discussed anything real was when I got suspended for dyeing my hair in the girls' locker room. I was starting to miss her. 

"Something comforting." 

"Fine."  

Mother made it around the curtain and stood at the front of the bed. Her gaze was as cold as a compress and just as satisfying. It soothed the bruises seatbelted across my chest, eased the swelling around my broken bones. Her eyes found mine and for a while she stared at me. When she spoke, it was too loud for a hospital. 

"You stole our car. What were you thinking?" Mother went on and on, reminding me that I don't know how to drive. I grinned and she yelled at me for mocking her. I didn't tell her it was genuine.  

This is as close to her as I can get.

 See you all next Saturday! :D

Year 1, Week 36: Results!

A worthy meme for this blog indeed.

Awesome entries all around you guys! I love how some weeks we have wildly different stories with the same prompt, and other weeks a clear theme among stories emerges. Also y'all managed to resist the lure of pyromaniac Cthulhu. That's some serious self-control.

Inspired by the youtube series I have been recently watching like a productive person (*cough*), let us continue with the awards!

ONWARD!

Honorable Mention

Sam Malkowski with When Freaks Grow Up

Si: I really like the way you weave lines from the main character's past in with his actions in the present! They're short enough to keep us interested, but give interesting tidbits that clearly shaped the main character into who he is today. Interesting how the main character's need for parental approval plays into his theatrics in the present. I would like to see more tension in the story—the initial tension of the danger of bomb-defusing fades by the end due to the main character's total confidence and apparent lack of obstacles. I really liked the line “The impact of the explosion, the thunder it made, the power ignited from my own hands- these were addictions.” Well done!

Rin: I really enjoyed the main character in this piece. The overall light tone to the piece was a nice contrast with the more serious subject of bomb control. The description was well done, I could easily put myself in his shoes and see what the character is doing and experiencing. I like how the back story was woven in with the rest of the story in little bits and the show vs tell was in good balance. It was fun to see a trait normally seen in a negative light turned into something positive. I also liked how in his past it was what made his mother look down on him and be disappointed in him, but now it’s what people admire in him. Very nice!

First Runner Up

Steph Ellis with Unforgiven

Si: This is a very creepy, rather frightening story. Excellent job with the atmosphere! I really like how you don't reveal Elise's injury until the very end. We initially get the sense that Christo is a pyromaniac, but later we get his real motive—a rather darker one. The last two lines are my favorite: “He would never stop until he had forced himself to suffer what she had suffered, what he had inflicted. And she would never try and prevent him.” In these two lines, we learn so much about the characters' relationship, motives, and the strange mindset of the order they're in. One confusion I had was with regard to the start of this line: “Her wax-carved face...”--I admit it took me a bit out of the story, because I started trying to imagine whether she was wearing a mask, or wax was spread on her face to hide her injury? I would like a bit more description there (or perhaps earlier in the story) to clarify. The dialogue is short, to the point, and feels real. Great story!

Rin: Man, this one gave me shivers! The slower pace of the piece added to the dark, cold tone of it well. The characters were clearly distinct, the contrast between them shown starkly in her cold, passive mercilessness, her brother’s single-minded desperation for penance, and Francis’ concern. My favorite line was ‘His eyes, obsidian mirrors reflecting the dancing flames, refused to meet hers, focusing only on the fire, always the fire.’ The bit about his eyes was awesome mental imagery, but the rest of it gives a glimpse into his mental state. Oh and that last line, chill-inducing, but a good wrap up! Great job!

Y1W36 WINNER!

Sara Codair

with The Phoenix

Si: This is a really excellently written story. I can hear the voice of the mother very clearly in the tale though she doesn't appear in story. I love the idea of the phoenix child—very original take on the prompt! Even though the story is mostly the mother “telling” what happened, it doesn't feel flat or info-dumpy—here's a great exception to the esteemed Writing Rule. It's fascinating, we want to know more about the situation and Dane. I love the contrast between the lines “The papers said all that was left of Dane was a charred skeleton. They don’t know about the infant that wakes me every night crying for milk or to get his diaper changed. ”. The last two lines are excellent closure—the literal rebirth of Dane and the metaphorical rebirth of his parents' lives. I like the way you juxtapose the fantastic--Dane's spontaneous combustion and literal rebirth--and the prosaic—the bureaucratic hoops his parents must jump through to give Dane his new life, the necessity to move where no one knows them. Intriguing story, great job!

Rin: Wow! With such a creative use of the prompt, I can’t help but love this piece! I liked the twist in that instead of a phoenix-like person being calm and serene as is usually portrayed for a phoenix, that the boy had a temper. And that it probably ran in the family, given they knew that he was going to set himself on fire. I love the blend of real world bits that grounded the fantasy bits firmly in believability and gave it a unique tone to it. The description really put me right there in the scene. It makes me wish that there was more of the story to read. Excellent job!

The Phoenix

We all knew he was going to set himself on fire, and we were right. Henry and I just never imagined how our son, Dane, would go up in flames.

It happened over summer vacation. The sun was scorching and the black top was so hot you could cook stir fry on it. Dane was angry. The wheels on his favorite skate board had melted. His face was beat red, aching with sunburn. So when Billy Jones tried to steal his Nintendo DS, he just lost and burst into flames.

The medical examiner said it was spontaneous combustion, but he wasn’t there when it happened. He didn’t see his son out on the street raising a fist to punch a kid twice his size, just go up in flames when the sun hit his fist. He didn’t see how quick the body blackened. He didn’t see the naked baby screaming in the ashes - a baby that looked exactly how the burning boy had looked twelve years earlier.

The papers said all that was left of Dane was a charred skeleton. They don’t know about the infant that wakes me every night crying for milk or to get his diaper changed. No one knows save Henry, and no one else can know. Not even my mother. 

We’re already packing. Henry has an apartment picked out across the country, and a buddy at work who can hack the system and get baby Dane a fake birth certificate and social security number. I don’t know what Henry told his friend, just that it wasn’t the truth.

Like a phoenix, Dane was reborn from his ashes, starting life anew. So we, too, would start over, in a new town where no one knew our names.

Year 1, Week 34: Results!

Welcome back to our judging session of Cracked Flash Fiction, Week 34! We had a surplus of fabulous entries this time around, and are pleased to announce our winners!

Honorable Mention

Browniydgrl1 with Frank’s Big Dreams

Mars: This was a very amusing piece (made me chuckle). I can only imagine that they have hamster-sized bunny ears if they can put ants on stilts! I have to wonder what the extent of the hamsters' concept of their living state is; they (or, at least, Hank) recognize(s) that the humans keep them captive--how intelligent are they? The personalities came through the all-dialogue story well; poor Hank and flamboyant Frank. 

Rin: I liked the whimsical tone in this story. The arguing hamsters were fun and distinct. Frank had me laughing with his high society aspirations and I couldn’t help but feel for poor Hank, slowly going mad at the mercy of his cage mate. The idea of a pet society revolving around fashion amuses me. It reminded me fondly of a variation on a Beverly Hills Chihuahua movie. Well done!

First Runner Up

M.T. Decker with 24.984 Centimeters and Counting

Mars: I'd definitely be that one with the horrified look on my face (actually, you probably couldn't have paid me enough money to go into that room (I seriously got nightmares from that episode of the Twilight Zone with the sentient doll)). I felt like the piece was a little unended; I would have liked to know the force behind all this creepy mojo (and who was the room making space for?)--but otherwise, it was well written, and the eerie tone came through the piece really well. I hope Abe and the main character got away alright!

Rin: This one is shiver-worthy! It had this classic, horror, paranormal crime scene feel to it that I adored. I hate, hate, HATE dolls with the passion of a thousand suns, so that alone is creepy to me. Then you had the mini-replica dollhouse, which is never a good omen. I do wish that it had been more clear what was on the character’s neck, that bit confused me. But that last line was fabulous! Loved it!

Y1W34 WINNER!

ParkInkSpot

with Careful What You Select For

Mars: Aha! I loved that DUN DUN DUNNN moment at the end there (good foreshadowing early on--"You must be able to see how dangerous that is."). I liked the journal-entry style of writing after the initial conversation; I felt it flowed nicely (I might have actually preferred the entire piece like this). 

'Robot apocalypse' keeps popping into my mind over this, simply because Dr. Fazzino forgot the one thing that prevents this kind of apocalypse--the human touch. Bad things happen when you let computers (or animals) evolve to get smarter than you!

Rin: I loved the concept of risky genetic experimentation run by a computer program (and let’s admit it: some mishap is bound to happen when we let a computer decide things) combined with the use of real, scientific animal names. The tension built up nicely with each new addition bred into the rodents, gaining size and more advantageous features. It had me on the edge of my seat, waiting to see what would inevitably go wrong! That final line wrapped it up beautifully, with this sense of the horror having only begun. Great story, congrats!

Careful What You Select For

“This is incredibly disturbing to me.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Leo, this hamster has genetic modifications for climbing?” 

“Generation 34 included some minor modifications to paw structure, yes. It’s got a lateral ‘finger’ including some primate gene sequences, and the latest generations have a limited opposable thumb.” 

“It’s better at gripping.” 

“Better at climbing too, as you can see, Sam. Genetropia is apparently selecting for some arboreal survival advantages. Climbers avoid predators and can reach more food sources.” 

“Genetropia is selecting these gene modifications without intervention. Leo, you must be able to see how dangerous that is. It’s selecting freely from 200000 library animal genomes, and you have no idea what the expert system might consider ‘advantageous’ in the next generation.” 

“Nonsense, the system will automatically discard any result that produces a disadvantageous mutation. Genetropia will only select for better, more survivable animals. We’ll end up with super-rodentia, eventually.” 

Dr. Leo Fazzino’s Genetropia project lab notes, Generation 65. 

“For the recent litters, Genetropia seems to be selecting for traits common to Cricetidae, possiblyRattus rattus. Our hamsteroids have developed longer tails and have been steadily gaining in size for generations.” 

Dr. Leo Fazzino’s Genetropia project lab notes, Generation 85. 

“Dipodomys elator, I believe, kangaroo rats may be the source of their overdeveloped hind legs. I’m not sure how much of the original hamster DNA remains, but our modified rodents appear to draw mostly from other species now. Up to five or six pounds, it’s big and it can make tremendous leaps. I’ve had to upgrade the cages several times already.” 

Dr. Leo Fazzino’s Genetropia project lab notes, Generation 113. 

“The modified rats are gone; apparently they’ve learned to work latches. Down into the basement, they’ve made it in the sewers. I only pray they aren’t as intelligent as I suspect.”

Thank you all for your participation, and hope to see you back this Saturday! :D

Year 1, Week 33: Results!

(Source)

Just how much do you think Si and Rin enjoyed this prompt and the stories submitted?

A LOT.

These ACTUALLY EXIST you guys!

 Y'all are awesome people to keep dropping by and submitting stories to our little house of crazy flash fiction here.

We're super SUPER happy to see people commenting on other's stories also! We're a little community of cracked writers! *wipes away tear*

(Just don't tell Flavio we picked Butterfly instead of Moth for our theme. Hushhhhhh)

And now ... WINNERS!

Honorable Mention

Verbal with The Butterfly Effect

Si: The poor awkward main character! I was cringing for them. The last few lines—the actual interaction—is pure gold. Poor main character, mixing up the advice given by their friend into an awkward jumbled heap! “It’s hard to say which of us is more confused. ”-- this made me laugh. And that final image of Todd's obvious confidence in his friend, and the main character's true situation—ouch! Great timing on ending the story just where it packs the most punch and the most cringe-worthy image. One thing I would add is maybe faster pace in the beginning, and more description of the scene. It's very dialogue-heavy, which is great—I would like a bit more imagery showing us the store, are there any other people about to witness the main character's embarrassing situation, does he have an escape route? Amusing story and great scene!

Rin: I laughed all my way through this. I’m a self-proclaimed awkward nerd, who would have played(who am I kidding, still would!) tabletop games like that, so I definitely connect with the character, especially with that friend of his. I may have shook my fist at his friend’s dissing of them. One my favorite lines was ‘Todd nudges me towards her with all the subtlety of a rampaging hippo.’ Love the mental imagery there. The dialogue with the girl had a great mix of awkward tension and realistic-situation humor. I loved how his friend mistook her taking her phone out and that last line was a great wrap up for it. Comedy gold!


First Runner Up

Jeff Rowlands with Duel

Si:  I was so fooled for the first two paragraphs in this story—was TOTALLY imagining a fencing duel. Little did I know the weapon was even more deadly—the dreaded chili pepper! I love how the narrator's messy hair and thick glasses become an advantage to him in this situation—they are protected by them. I like their strategy of appearing totally invincible—even going so far as to shove a handful of chilies into their mouth—and defeating their opponent by their show of confidence. One thing I would suggest is to make the writing style more consistent throughout the story—for example, “Now is the time to really turn the heat up on him.” compared to “I see beads of sweat trickle down his bald head and I can see that he is human, breakable and beatable.” There are slight grammar/punctuation mistakes, and one line has a more casual style, while the other reads more like a high drama. I would look out for those to make sure the focus stays on the great story you're telling! The game isn't up until the narrator grabs a handful of chilies instead of the blade I was expecting. Great story!

Rin: This one was fun! I liked the description of the main character having a bit of nerdy look to him and the hint shown in the beginning that his opponent was someone that he’d faced before and had suffered at the hands of in some way. Got to love a bit of poetic justice! The use of the prompt to suggest that it was actually a struggle for the main character was a nice touch and a good use of the prompt. Having eaten habaneros, I can squirm along as he pops a scotch bonnet in his mouth. The only thing I had a problem with was, unless the MC was trying to be very macho, he(as a chili-eating champion) probably should have known not to drink alcohol after eating hot peppers, because it breaks down the capsaicin, but spreads it around and doesn’t neutralize it, which tends to intensify the burn. Yowch! Thanks for the fun story!

Y1W33 WINNER!

Steph Ellis

with I wish I may, I wish I might

Si: AH! This story is SO high tension! Seriously, my heartbeat was definitely increasing with every line. It reads deceptively smoothly, but is filled with turns of phrase and little descriptions that give it a distinctive edge--”She shivered as tendrils of cold night air staked their claim on her body” for example, beautiful phrasing there. The tension just keeps ramping up all the way to the end—the reader is right there with Simone as she runs. What a situation! Beautiful imagery showing the reader Simone's pregnancy—and the precarious situation she's in. Excellent job letting the reader imagine the terror and urgency at the very end, with short lines that let us think up the worst all on our own. And the ending—I was half-expecting it, but it landed with a chilling punch. We can feel Simone's fear and hope, the refuge just barely out of reach, the lurking predator behind … ! Really well done. I applaud you!

Rin: My word, this was so good! The subject was very compelling and I couldn’t help but feel for Simone’s plight. The conflict was obvious and the stakes were good and high. The description was good, adding both tone and an easy setting to imagine. I could feel her fear and her hope. I cheered her escape attempt and hoped to see her succeed, for her sake and that of her unborn child. So when she failed, after getting so close, it made it that much more poignant. Sadder, given the thought of how many women truly do go through this situation. The pacing in this was spot on and amped up the tension beautifully. Fantastic job! Congrats!

I wish I may, I wish I might 

“Now I feel like ninja butterflies are throwing ninja stars at my stomach.” 

Ray laughed as Simone’s puny arms continued to batter him. He had always been stronger than her and mocked her for her weakness. She would do as she was told, as she always did.

He held the door open. “Go on then.”

She shivered as tendrils of cold night air staked their claim on her body.

“No,” he said, taking the coat from her. “The punters need to see what they’re buying.”

The streets were empty, shelter sparse. Ray wouldn’t be far away, watching. Yet no cars cruised by, no one walked her street. No customers tonight would make him angry. Instinctively her hand ran over the slight curve of her belly. That was where he would aim his attack if she failed again. She couldn’t risk it, she had her own ninja butterfly to protect; already she could feel its delicate flutterings as it stretched its wings in the safety of her womb. Ray would not allow it to emerge from its cocoon. Of that she was sure. It was time to make a decision.

There was a night shelter not far away, she knew those who worked there. More than once they had offered to help but fear had held her back. Now though …

I wish I may, I wish I might, she whispered to the stars glittering above her, pushing down the terror, feeding off hope.

She started to walk towards the shelter, heard footsteps behind her. She started to run, feet and heart pounding in rhythm, never looking back even as her pursuer gained on her. 

Lights ahead, closer. Her breathing shallower, fear blossoming. 

Closer. 

Closer still.

Lights. Voices. Hope.

Closer.

A hand. Darkness. Silence.

We'll catch you this Saturday, with another totally sane prompt! WE WILL MEET AGAIN!
*giant moth beats wings overhead*