Year 2, Week 36 & 37: Results!

What a great prompt and turnout! Though I was still busy with the A-to-Z Challenge when the prompt went live, it made me want to cry when I realised I couldn’t write too. Oh well, at least I got to read excellent entries.

Now for the results.

Honourable Mention

AJ Aguilar-van der Merwe with DELIVERANCE

I really enjoyed this story.

I think it will benefit from being longer: more world-building, getting to know the MC better and building the tension of the monster hunting her. As it is, it feels like we’re rushing from them being friends to Evan wanting to take her powers.

First Runner-Up

Carin Marais with Beneath the Bed

Scary! I love the idea of a monster protecting against other monsters.

Note: spaces between paragraphs makes it easier to read. Also, it felt like we jumped from the little girl’s POV to Monster’s (where we should be, as it makes for a powerful story).

Winner Y2W37

Sian Brighal

with No One Else

Wow! Terrifying in a this-can-really-be-happening way. I love how the orderly knows what’s going on, yet keeps the patient’s secret.

Note: dialogue must start in a new paragraph. (I’ve fixed it in the piece.)

I’ve replaced the semi-colon in the paragraph about Scary Mary with a comma – it could’ve been replaced with a full stop if the sentence that follows is rewritten to be a full sentence. (That’s why I replaced the semi-colon: a semi-colon does the same job as a full-stop just without completely severing ideas, but both should be full sentences in their own right.)

The end of the story is brilliant: the doctor figures out what’s going on, then…

“She was,” hissed a voice in his ear as cold, invisible and inhumanly strong fingers wound around his throat. “I am and always will be her favourite...her only!”

No One Else

“You’re my favourite monster.” 

The doctor paused on the way out, feeling his neck muscles burn in protest as he kept his head facing forward. He’d been warned—and rightly so—not to react to such words: always maintain a professional distance. Only when the door closed and the lock clicked did he relax and turn. 

“Odd thing to say.” 

“She says that sometimes,” the orderly muttered in answer. 

“Why would she?” the doctor mused. 

“Trying to soothe ruffled feathers, I think.” 

“But why would she think I could be angry with her?” 

“Don’t rightly know,” he demurred, but the doctor saw something ghost across his face: fear, pity. “Spoke out of turn, sorry.” 

He would have questioned further, but a colleague left the room next door. 

“Hey, Barrows,” the newcomer called out before glancing across to the neighbouring room. 

“Don’t tell me old Hoskins has got you working on Scary Mary,” he said with a sympathetic tone but smiling mouth. 

“Scary…?” 

“Oh, just some stupid mumbo-jumbo,” the man soothed. 

But Barrows had heard about ‘Scary Mary’, heard that she’d been linked in some superstitious way to the deaths of several doctors, orderlies and visitors, but he’d thought she was some story from the asylum’s deep and darker history. 

Later, at home, he spent a few minutes thinking about Mary, wondering why she’d single him out as a favourite; they'd never spoken before, but he couldn't deny that he'd seen some flicker of interest in her eyes. Was that it? But the more he thought, he couldn't help but feel that she'd been speaking not to him, but to her tattered bunny. 

“She was,” hissed a voice in his ear as cold, invisible and inhumanly strong fingers wound around his throat. “I am and always will be her favourite...her only!”

Well done, everyone.

Until next Saturday.

Super Late Week 36 Results!

*sneaks into Ronel's post* Okay, I finally found the time to get the reviews done (got a whole 9! hours! of sleep last night! and I felt better than I have in a week!). Sorry for leaving you all hanging for so long! You guys are great <3

First Runner Up

Stephen Shirres' Beware A Travelling Salesman's In Expensive Clothes

You couldn't have thought this would go well, my friend (@Main Character). Haven't you heard of Jack and the Beanstalk? Alas, some people. This story amused me, mainly with the glum attitude of the main character at bookends of the story. It just kinda reads to me as, "Welp, that happened."

The piece felt quickly written, with some missing words and odd phrases ("as if everyone knees there were thousands," "there was a space above my hearth needing filled," "A match head of flame," "too long i," etc.,.) This didn't detract much from my enjoyment of it, though each instance did give me pause. Nice job conveying the tone through the character, here!

Y2W36 Winner

Marj Crockett!

with Summoned!

LOL the dyslexia in this piece gave me a good laugh. The character dynamics here are pulled off very humorously; I've definitely been in both the mentor's and apprentice's shoes at some point in my life! (The "argggh you're doing it wrong can I pls help" and "I DON'T WANT ANY HELP TYVM" things.) I thought it would be interesting to have some more rules and background for the magic, though that's not required for this story as a flash fiction piece or stand-alone. The humor, I think, is the entire point of this piece, and it's done well. 

Summoned! 

He leaned against the tree with a sigh, his offer of help rejected.

Across the clearing, the apprentice mumbled as she marked a circle on the ground.

"Bone meal should do. It's quite stable." she muttered.

"Do you...?"

"No, I can manage."

"I want to help."

"NO! I said I can manage!"

He sighed again. This was not going well.

She started pacing again, criss-crossing the circle, and forming lines until the pentagram was complete.

Wiping her hands, she picked up her bag of magical artefacts. After rooting inside, she pulled out a stick with feathers on. Next came the wax figure that would be what she was going to summon.

From where he was standing, the model didn't look all that inspiring, but he knew not to interfere now. She would have to work it through to the end. Oh well, we'll see what she gets, he thought, another sigh escaping. His reward for this was a glare from the girl.

She chanted the summoning spell. She danced complicated steps, twisting and turning, moving round the pentagram. No real words reached his ears, only a string of sound that sawed into his brain. An awkward sound: something wasn't quite right.

"Shula..." he said. But it was too late.

Smoke filled circle, followed by popping and hissing. Which god she had summoned would not be clear for a moment or two. A breeze sprung up from nowhere, the smoke disappeared.

He heard a bark. A bark?

"Shula... which god have you summoned?" he asked.

"I don't know," Shula replied, "I thought I said the words right, but something... happened."

"Which god?"

"God? You wanted me to summon a god?" Shula gulped, "I thought you said dog!" 

The creature on the ground wagged its tail and barked again.

Thanks again for putting up with me. Ronel's got this next Saturday again! <3 

Year 2, Week 33: Results!

Wow! The entries this week were superb. I wish I could tell each author what I thought about their story, but time won’t permit that. Just know: it was extremely difficult to choose my favourites this week.

Honourable Mention

AnnaJailene with Vengeance

Great imagery throughout.

Beware sentence fragments: “I stand a safe distance away. Far away; in a cradle held up by a crane normally used for Dinner in the Sky.” This is one sentence, so don’t divide it with a full-stop and a semi-colon (does the same job as a full-stop). Rather emphasise with a colon, e.g. “I stand a safe distance away: far away, in a cradle held up by a crane normally used for Dinner in the Sky.”

In the third paragraph, replace the semi-colon with a colon (a semi-colon does the same job as a full-stop just without completely severing ideas, while a colon draws attention to what follows).

The loud electronic dance music drowned the sound of the clattering wings. I love this sentence. Well done.

First Runner Up

Sam Lauren with Patient Fruition

I enjoyed the time-travel aspect of this story.

“Counsel” should be “Council”. (Counsel = advice or guidance. Council = local governing body of a region/town.)

Beware sentence fragments. (A basic sentence needs a subject and a verb.) They’re fine in dialogue, but too many in the text can frustrate readers.

The end of your story is brilliant.

The dragons, twelve, stood taller than their ruins. They sniffed the air. They stretched their metallic spines and wagged their tails through steel columns. Their scales, seamless skin, shimmered like gems under water. They combed the streets like a pack of hybrid bloodhounds. 

“You’re an expert on biotechnology like this,” Daniel whispered. “What do you think they're looking for?”

I smiled. “Me.”

Well done.

Winner Y2W33

Sian Brighal

with In the Flesh

This story grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. The question of the dragons’ souls echoed long after this story was read. Well done.

In the Flesh

Dragons stalk the streets, puffing out smoke and clattering their mechanical wings. Most cheer, waving their banners, yelling out the names of their heroes, the beasts that battle for their entertainment. Some scowl, having lost money on the annual bouts between the leviathans of bronze, silver, copper and brass: the mythical made manifest, breathing fire to melt their foes into precious pools to be gathered up with due reverence at the end.

A few simply watched, studying the newly forged and beaten panels, wondering if any of them were still unique…how much of each other resided in each one? For metal had memory…and with each smelting in the arena and reforging at the smith, the dragons’ flesh healed as one: bits of victor and vanquished, old and new, battle-hungry and battle-weary alike. On the outside, the dragons looked no different, recast in the same long adored image, but their bodies must almost be as one by now.

And their souls?

No metal beast had souls! Such talk was seditious…or pandering to the pious who thought gambling a sin and would use any argument to bring down the Dragon Arena. But…a few of the old artisans remembered stories of the beasts’ first forging, when they were weapons and rose from ruined cities to rain down vengeance and hate upon foes: when claws were sharper and buffed skin was anointed with blood. And they whisper the rumour that human souls had put their undying spark into tightly wound heart mechanisms to give the metal monsters ‘life’ and understanding enough to be commanded.

So a few watched the dragons stalk past with a mix of pity and dread of war machines used as toys and what amalgam of hate and anger fleshed out the madness of a thousand souls existing as one.

Thank you all for participating.

Until next Saturday.

Year 2, Week 3: Results!

Hah! I got them done before midnight! Albeit, only six minutes before, but still! I win!

Mars, by the way. Sorry to make y'all wait! Here are your fab winners!:

Honorable Mention 

Keshia Nowden's The State of Being Alive

Ah, that second line reminds me of talking to Cleverbot. (Though, perhaps, the syntho-human really is as sentient and capable as humans, and the main character is just specie-ist.)  I like the technology presented here; the peek into this world and its interplanetary intersections is cool. 

The story, while a complete piece, fell a little flat for me due to the lack of conflict. While fascinating, there's no real danger or obstacle for the character to overcome (the robot frustrates him for a moment, but that's mostly all). I didn't feel very attached to him either--the concept is great, but I would have liked to get to know the main character a little better. 

Also, electropad, you suck. (He never did get that human, did he.) Nice piece. 

First Runner-Up

SueAnn Porter's Frank and Chester

I love how immediately Frank's character is established. From the second line, I could already guess at what his living situation is. The description of his greasy white hair and the scratching at the beard generates a powerful image of the character. The theme of empathy in the piece is pure and strong. You can feel Nurse Jackson's hesitance, perhaps guessing what she might be thinking ("I could lose my job for this"), but human compassion won out in the end. It's an emotion-evoking piece. 

Y2W3 Winner

Sian Brighal

with Listen for What is Left Unsaid

When I read through this story, I got the firm reminder of a song I'm rather fond of (the Sound of Silence (specifically the lines that go: "People talking without speaking // People hearing without listening")) from the tone of the story. My favorite line is, 

So while the rain hid my tears, we talked of so many things, shielded and warm, and the storm passed through and over me. 

The piece doesn't really have conflict to it, so it's not super exciting. However,  it does have an arc building up to that second-to-last paragraph and then the piece resolving. Often times, with a story like this, there's just a flat telling of an event, but this is crafted in such a manner that there's a story arc, giving it the ability to hold its own as. Good job!

Listen for What is Left Unsaid

I need to talk to a human: that was my one only need, but they all needed something else.

I remember how so many people came, but not the right one. I needed to talk to a human. Not an officer, not a psychologist or counsellor, but a human. Someone who didn’t dissect each word, analyse each muscle flicker or peel me apart for the bits they wanted. 

I needed to talk to someone who’d listen to me…. I did try. I sat and talked, and they listened but didn’t hear. They took their bits and did their jobs. Maybe they thought they could patch me together with ‘job-well-dones’ and positive outcomes.  

But I needed to talk to a human. The need gouged me out, leaving me hollow. And into that depression dripped all the bitterness of unheard words, where everything else drowned.  

And then I found you...years later: in a park, smirking at my shoes and sodden clothes while rain poured down. You offered me coffee from your Thermos as an apology and shared your umbrella.  

In my words, so inconsequential at the time, you heard what I couldn’t say, and in yours, I caught what I needed to hear. So while the rain hid my tears, we talked of so many things, shielded and warm, and the storm passed through and over me.  

That was years ago, but I’ll never forgot the hours with you. I don’t even know your name or where you are now, but I still have your umbrella and make coffee when the world threatens to storm, and I go out to talk to humans, to hear the words that they cannot say.

 Great job, everybody! See you next Saturday with Sara Codair!

Year 1, Week 45: Results!

#Dashcat
Are you tired of kitten pictures yet
I'm not
Say hi to Xena!

Welcome back, everyone. Some extremely unfortunate events occurred over the weekend and we hope our dorky and irreverent competition takes your mind off of it for a bit. Please be safe, everybody <3

(It's Mars over here as the judge this week, btw (if you couldn't tell from the kitten))

Honorable Mention

Ronel Janse van Vuuren's Misty Knives

Knives, princes, assassins, mystery! Everything a good assassin tale needs. This piece is a cute and amusing read; very lighthearted. I was a little confused about the characters and their development--their actions didn't seem to line up with what they are. Assassin: generally cold-blooded killer. Dauphin: royalty who should have a healthy suspicion of cold-blooded killers. Maybe with more context on their backgrounds (particularly hers), it would have flowed together better (we only got the one line about her past at the end there). What was her "life of iniquity"? What kind of person was she before she started killing? Why's she fallen for the dauphin? Intriguing piece. 

First Runner Up

Sian Brighal's Avid Collector

So, the first time I skimmed through this, I totally thought it was a sex scene (oops). Then I read it again a little closer and saw what it was really about. The thing I actually like the most about the piece is the structure of the writing--it's very appealing, the way the paragraphs are almost the same size, yet the sentences are varied in length and formation. There's not a lot of conflict to the piece--more reminiscing and reflecting on the past in that monologing sort of fashion--which I felt detracted a little from it, but I thought the characters were well-developed (or, at least, the POV character and how s/he describes 'you'). It's a nice little piece (I suppose I shouldn't say that about torture and killing; ah, irony). Well done!

Y1W25 Winner

Carin Marais!

with Passing the Time

One of my friends recently found an exorcist book (with legit exorcism rituals in them (that sometimes include defenestrating priests, curiously)) in her library, and this piece reminded me of that; I'm very amused by this new hobby that Hilda has, and I certainly feel sorry for Gerhardt! (I mean, the only thing worse than a randomly-summoned demon could be a randomly-summoned demon covered in glitter. Speaking of randomly-summoned demons, I would have loved to see how that situation played out! How do they handle that, one wonders?) I like the bits of description dropped throughout the piece about the setting and characters--I can imagine Hilda with her curly, messy bun (and glasses?), excitedly covering every surface of the house with candles (almost like the Dixie-cup prank), and Gerhardt being this sort of put- and worn-out aging gentleman. Excellent job!

Passing the Time 

“I think I preferred your old hobby,” Gerhardt called over his shoulder as he signed for yet another package addressed to Mrs Hilda Faustus. 

He tried to read the label as he turned and closed the front door with his foot. But Hilda was already rushing towards him, clapping her hands with glee at the newest addition to her collection.  

“What is it this time?” 

“Candles!” 

“More candles?” He looked around the crowded living room. Pillar candles of all sizes stood on every flat surface not covered by trinkets bought off late night shopping shows.
Hilda tore into the black cardboard box like it was a Christmas present and showed him a grimy black candle.  

“See? Pre-dribbled, even,” she grinned. “Doesn’t it look just beautiful?” 

“Very,” Gerhardt sighed. “I still prefer the scrapbooking.” 

“You always went on about the glitter that got everywhere.” 

“I prefer glitter to random summoned demons.” 

“It just takes practice to get the spells right.” 

“The neighbours are talking. Jeff found me in the front yard the other day and--” 

“O! Look at that! They now have monthly surprise boxes! O darling, can I sign up for those?” 

Gerhardt shrugged. He should have known this would happen. It always did in his family. One moment everyone is happy to scrapbook,crochet, or even make a bit of liquor in the backyard. The next moment they find a grimoire and it’s all blood and souls and getting dragged off to hell.  

“Of course darling,” he sighed. “Just read the fine print first, alright?” 

She bustled off to her workroom and he stared at the pile of scrapbooking supplies forgotten in the corner of the room.  

“Whatever makes you happy, darling,” he whispered.

 Congratulations, winners!

Hope to see you all back this Saturday!