Year 2, Week 31: Results!

I (Mars) honestly did mean to have these up earlier today, but then some things got in the way! Nearly passed out yesterday after my blood draw at the doctor's (just to check my vitamin levels, nothing horribad going on), and today I got sucked into a girl's night out/family reunion type deal a ways away from my house, and then my sister accidentally left her phone at the restaurant so we had to go back (*sobs quietly in corner*) but the results! are up! Yay!

(The good news is our other judges are gonna handle the next few weeks, so hopefully they'll be better at this game than I've been the last few weeks, lol (*more sobbing in corner*).) Thank you to all you lovely people that join & support our competition <3

First Runner Up

Benjamin Langley's Turn the Other Cheek

This one amused me, both with "hehe you're not the chosen one," and with the use of second-person; it felt a lot like one of those Choose Your Own Adventures (which are hysterical). I was certain from the title that this was going to be some kind of religious story, but the actual result is far more entertaining. I felt like I was missing some information about the amulet and this other set of cheeks, but overall, I liked the piece. The open-endedness of the piece doesn't bother me, either, as it does with many stories that seem to end without a finish; this reads to me as an emotional plot arc for the main character; overcoming Lygor's taunts and coming back at the end with renewed determination. Love it!

Y2W31 Winner

Firdaus!

with Lies

HAHA oh no. Around "I had nowhere else to go," was around when I started figuring out how this story was really going to end, but oops, I really liked it. The piece had me going when the main character noted the "wife" figedting with discomfort--I really thought she was his wife, but I should have known better! It got me because I wasn't quite expecting that kind of ending. The ending line--which brought the entire piece in a circle--was A+. A truly horrifying tale. Great job!

Lies

"By the way, I lied," I said nervously, nibbling the styrofoam cup. The tea was cold. 

He frowned, "Which part?" 

"Most of it," I took the last sip, gulping down the tepid liquid, dreading what was to come.

He put down his cup, his eyes as hard as the iron table in front of us. 

The sound of honking and general chaos of a bus stand filtered in through the window of the small room which served as a canteen. 

"I don't have an alcoholic father who beats me up," I shifted uncomfortably in the plastic chair. 

"And your mother?" 

"Probably dead," I shrugged, "I ran away from an orphanage."

He leaned back in his chair watching me with hooded eyes. 

This stranger had been kind. Bought me breakfast when he had found me crying outside the bus stand, and I had blurted those lies. 

His wife had been impatient and a little peeved when he had suggested tea and something to eat. Now she sat at the edge of her chair fidgeting. 

"You remind me of my sister," he'd said, "she's ten too."

Somehow he had made me feel safe and I had followed him to the canteen. 

"Come to my place," he offered, "my sister would love the company."

I had nowhere else to go. 

An auto-rickshaw took us to the edge of town. His wife didn't get off with us. 

We took the stairs up to his room in a dilapidated building. I didn't see anyone around. 

"Where did your wife go?" I asked, uncomfortable. 

We entered a small damp room with a cot in the middle. 

Shutting the door behind us he said, "She's not my wife."

"And your sister..." my voice faded away as I looked into his eyes. 

"I lied too," he whispered menacingly. 

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 12: Results!

I really enjoyed this week’s entries. Well done, everyone. I got a little carried away, wearing my editor’s hat (I’m currently editing a couple of my stories), but I finally found the top three.

I did get a jolt of surprise when I went to look for the names of the authors that go with the stories…

Please read the rules: the competition runs from midnight to midnight (24 hours). Any submissions made after the deadline will not be considered. Thank you.

Anyhow, here’s the results for Cracked Flash: Year 2, Week 12.

(If you're still interested in guest judging, send an email our way! crackedflash@gmail.com)

Honorable Mention

Firdaus with Witchcraft

I like the premise. You probably shouldn’t jump around in time as much as you did in this short story. Keep it to when she’s eight and show how she makes friends – and the end can be her hope of the future. Also, she can tell the witches why she fled from home. Keeping the story in one time, makes it more immediate and thus more compelling. I like the distinction between humans and witches. Mm, will she really turn her stepmother into a toad and keep her in a jar? Good job.

First Runner Up

Carin Marais with One Touch

I liked this, especially the end. Though the first paragraph is a little too long: divide it into shorter paragraphs to help with pacing. Your heroine is fleeing, after all. Fiancée is a woman, fiancé is a man. Shrivelled (two l’s). Should use a colon, not a semi-colon, in last paragraph, e.g. “Witches: healers who took on the wounds of those they healed with a single touch.” Perhaps show a little sadness earlier on that her fiancé is also hunting her: e.g. even the man I love. Interesting premise. How did she know that she could heal him? How did she know that the witches would take her in? Well done.

Y2W12 WINNER:

Bill Engleson

with Which Witch Did You Wind Up With?

The story immediately drew me in. Interesting descriptions. I liked how the witch the strange woman meets up with is the narrator’s neighbour. Personally, I would’ve used dashes instead of commas “…that even witches – especially witches – would have a website.” for effect. Excellent story.

Which Witch Did You Wind Up With? 

“I found sanctuary with the witches. I did, you know.”  

The wind was gently blowing from the west and I was intent on looking out at the ruffled water in the Sound. She had sidled up to me like a scrunched-up transit user with boundary issues might on a crowded bus. 

“Pardon,” I said, trying to be polite but hopefully giving a clear message that I enjoyed this quiet ten-minute ferry ride and didn’t really want to chat with a stranger. 

“I have found a haven with the witches.”  

I looked at her. Not young. Not old. Mid-forties, maybe. The wind had stirred up her thick dark hair and was whipping it around like fat brown leaves on the ground. She had all her teeth. They looked original.  

“That’s good,” I offered, hoping to put an end to the interruption. 

“I’ve never met them, you know? The witches,” she added. “They have a website.” 

I nodded. It seemed reasonable these days that even witches, especially witches, would have a website. Or a Facebook site. Something cyber, anyways. 

“Yup, it’s called A World of Witches Awaits.” 

“Catchy,” I said. I could feel myself being drawn into her natter. How difficult, I thought, would it be for her to wander away from me and let me enjoy the peace and quiet? And then I started feeling selfish. The poor woman was obviously thrilled with her journey. 

“So, it’s here on this Island? The Witch Sanctuary?” 

“Oh, yes. But you don’t have to actually be a witch to stay. I’m a Baptist.”  

“Ah. Well, so you’ll stay there a while?” 

“Yes. They’ll meet me at the wharf. And then whisk me away.”  

With that, the ferry docked, she walked ashore and shook hands with my neighbour, Charlotte.  

Son of a gun, I thought.

Thank you all for your participation! Until Saturday…

Year 2, Week 10: Results!

So, real talk: college is pretty much kicking both Si and me in the butt (Si's gotta write like a million grant essays), so CFFC might be rough for the next little while. We haven't decided as of yet, but CFFC may be transitioning to a twice-a-month basis, since a lot of our time is consumed by college. (Plan on it being run this next week, though!) 

We love running this competition and have a lot of fun with it and all y'all, but we agree that it cannot be allowed to negatively impact our education/careers. There will be weeks (like this one) where Si is planned to judge that I'll step in for (because Si's schedule is a lot more crazy than mine), and we may have to call off some weeks all together due to time conflicts in both of our schedules (I'm looking at you, November & finals). 

We are on the look for another judge, and are open to guest judges. If you or anyone you know would like to take a stab at judging some flash fiction, contact us at crackedflash@gmail.com. We would prefer people who have participated in the competition in the past (and remember it's never too late to participate!), but other experience is not necessary--only an interest in flash fiction. Si, Rin, and I had no prior experience judging flash fiction competitions before we started this up--we just thought it would be fun and rewarding, and it has been. We always strive to encourage people to be better than before, and to do better ourselves; the best way to do that is through experience. We'd love to have you on the team, even if only temporarily. There's no soul-selling or contracts involved; if you wanna judge, but can only do it once, we can definitely work with that. There's very little restriction in our judging style, though we have a couple of general guidelines we usually adhere to--we'll fill you in if you're interested!

Now, onto the judging. I've got an exam to take (and lots of calculus homework that's built up . . . shhh), so I only had time for two of these this time around. In case you didn't read through all of that up there, it's-a-me, Mars, judging this round. (Also, you all should know I'm taking a grammar class this semester; you have been warned.) 

First Runner-Up

Jeff Rowlands with Clearing

The surreal tone of this piece is alluring. And--bear with me, I'm becoming a grammar nerd--I really appreciate the variety in the sentence structures in this piece (though there could be a few less sentences that start with 'He' or 'She', particularly when they're straight in a row). I'm finding that using be-verbs in most sentences is common for many people, and that's what can attribute to the feeling of repetition. Here, however, the number of transitive and intransitive verbs ("action verbs) largely outweighs the be-verbs. I believe this is the main reason this piece has such a flow to it. On the other hand, there are a number of grammatical issues--consider:

Weary, walking through the woods somehow he’d managed to lose the trail, had been wandering for hours when he came open a little clearing, an oasis of calm. 

The meaning of the sentence is mostly clear, but it's very convoluted, grammar-wise, and might confuse a reader. Adjusting a few things leads to something like: 

Weary from walking through the woods, somehow he'd managed to lose the trail, and had been wandering for hours when he came to a little, open clearing; an oasis of calm. 

The tone doesn't quite fit the original, so more tweaking would be in order, but that's the general gist. Most other sentences with errors have only one or two and aren't as potentially confusing. Some could probably be left alone, as it is the author's prerogative to choose to include purposeful errors for flow and style (the key word being purposeful, of course). The content doesn't particularly enthrall me (it's a peculiar (in a good way) idea, but it's not very conflict-driven), but it's still good--the flow and surreal nature of the writing is what makes this piece. Keep up the good work!

Y2W10 Winner:

Firdaus!

with The Deal

The thing that grabbed my attention the most about this piece is how callously the people being sold are talked about. "Pieces" instead of "people". It reflects a lot of the real state of the world when people don't actually want to address the ugly side of society and how we interact with others. Dehumanizing someone you're going to murder makes it a lot easier to do the job.  

I believe the last line was probably supposed to be a bit more plot-twisty of a reveal, but I knew from the moment 'brain' was mentioned that it was a zombie piece. The other bits of foreshadowing were great--the way the woman regarded the main character, shuffling, an ugly face, clumsily sitting, a "hider", "eyes as dead as mine"--but there's no pretense when 'brains' (or even 'human flesh') enters the picture. The great reveal would be more exciting if it hasn't been stated outright (brains being the equivalent of being stated outright). 

The stench of live human flesh made me anxious and hungry. I thought about her brain pulsing in her pretty skull, then I quickly shook the thought off.

might become

The stench filling the room made me anxious and hungry, and I stared at the woman for a moment. Then, quickly, I shook the thoughts off. 

('Pretty skull' could probably be included, but I got a lot more of a creeper-psychopathic vibe when I read it that way.) If the plan is for the last line to be a kicker, the suspense has to build instead of being let out of the gate at the get-go. 

I was very pleased by the way this subverted a lot of zombie-story tropes, however. The humans and the zombies cutting a deal is generally out of the picture because zombies have no sentience, but this way opens up a lot more avenues for story-telling. It's kind of like smashing vampires and zombies together, and I think it's really cool (because now we can have zombie spies (e.g. hiders), and spies are cool). It also raises questions about the nature of these zombies--by 'breeding', does the main character mean popping new zombie babies (which would certainly be very different from the norm), or turning people? Do they still smell like rotting flesh? How did the transformation change them, precisely? Etc., etc.,. Good job on this piece!

The Deal 

"Welcome, we've been expecting you." she smiled, her smile as fake as her eyelashes. Perfectly made up red lips curled upwards, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.  

I shuffled nervously into the room. The stench of live human flesh made me anxious and hungry. I thought about her brain pulsing in her pretty skull, then I quickly shook the thought off. I was here to negotiate a deal, focus was necessary. A man sat next to her, immaculately dressed in a fine suit and tie. He didn't look at me just stared ahead, and why would he, I wasn't a pretty face. His expression was inscrutable.  

The room was dimly lit, just a lamp hanging over the large table they sat at. I clumsily sat down in a chair across from them.  

She pushed a sheet of paper towards me.  

"We have four thousand pieces to give you. You must sign this document. It states you will not attack the city for the next twelve months," her smile was gone and she was all businesslike.  

"We were promised six thousand—" I began but the man cut me short.  

"Take the deal," he stressed, "we have enough firepower to wipeout your entire species." 

He was still not looking at me and I could feel my anger rise. I glared at him and that's when I noticed the thick makeup he was wearing.  

A hider! He was one of us.  

He suddenly looked at me, his eyes as dead as mine, pleading me to take the deal. I too didn't want unnecessary bloodshed. Four thousand human livestock would be sufficient for breeding and eating for a year. 

I signed the paper. Yes, once upon a time I had a name, now just another zombie.

Great going, everyone! Thanks for all your participation. See you all on Saturday!

Year 1, Week 26: Results!

You know what's really exciting? Cracked Flash Fiction is growing. It's awesome and amazing, since Rin, Si, and I never thought anyone would have too much interest in this competition. It's also fabulous that we've been getting so many entries lately! 

9, 10, 7 <== the amount of entries in the last three weeks.

We're always excited when we get more than three entries, so this is a-ma-zing. 

Tl;dr: You guys are great. 

Also, in case you forgot: it's-a me, Mars, judging today! :D

Honorable Mention 

Carin Marais with All That is Left

The imagery and choice of words in this piece is excellent; a vivid picture is painted by sparkling phrases like "storm's memory", "faltering flame", "damp rocks between the dunes", and "the colour of the sea on a calm day". The attention to the description of the setting, scattered between the women's hope, gives the story a lot of lovely depth. 

However, I did think some of the sentences could be shortened; I found my eyes wandering after two or three very long sentences in a row--punctuation gives an anchor for your eyes to keep track of words. I also was unclear on who said the opening line--the prompt, that is. Was it the women, or somebody with Christiaan? I couldn't tell if the ambiguation was on purpose or not. 

I love that Annalene is knitting a sweater. It's a clear sign that she hasn't given up on Christiaan, and it's even more powerful than her prayer; she's not sitting around just staring at the sea; she's actively preparing for his return--she's trusting that he will come back. 

First Runner Up

Asgardana with Small and Mighty

The last few lines of this piece definitely amused me and I could empathize with the main character--I have been the one that forgot a key piece for a project before, and it sucks! Poor soldier! The sense of utter, "Oh no," is distinct in the line, "I hang my head." 

Something I would have liked to see more of was the main character's reaction to this battle they've just fought--the only bit we really get of it is "My boots are marred with blood and bone, shrapnel bites into my side but the heavy weight of the bag across my shoulder grounds me to this cliff" (which also happens to be my favorite line). The sense of determination--to reach the highest point and stake the flag--is evident, but there's no emotional whiplash from seeing hundreds or thousands of people die, and being the winner and one of the ones to survive. I can still empathize with the character, but there's a lot that goes unsaid!

Y1W26 Winner!

Firdaus

with Being Death

This reminded me of whenever I'm downloading something on Windows--it strongly amuses me to think that Death's clock can change depending on the variables present, and Death is actually not entirely aware of when people are going to die. Those lines, "Five minutes left. // Five minutes? Five minutes!" made me laugh. Death was just all, "One minute. Five minute--wait what?! Ugh."

Between the 'new recruits', consuming a soul (but being irritated with people killing for no reason), and the variables changing the time of death, I have to wonder what is going on behind the scenes in this story. Though not entirely pertinent to the overall plot, and keeping in mind the 300-word limit, it makes me extremely curious what's Death's day has looked like, and what her job looks like on a day-to-day basis.

Death is definitely a relatable character, and I enjoyed how much I instantly thought, "Girl, I feel you," when she knew she was going to be late. That feeling of, "UGH, you're telling me I was wasting my time?" is terrible! 

Being Death 

"Raise the flag!"

The girl was shouting at a skinny boy, who was struggling with the rope of the flagpole as the speedboat cut across the turquoise waters towards shore.

"Raise the distress flag! The red one you idiot!" she screamed.

Then she went to work on the young boy lying on his back, turning slightly blue.

Death stood at a distance, waiting for the minutes to tick by. She brought out an ancient watch from the folds of the midnight blue gown that draped gracefully down her slender frame, and glanced at it.

Five minutes left. 

She was getting impatient. It had been a long, hard day, what with all the bombs exploding and people killing for no reason. Even with all the new recruits her job was grueling.

Three minutes left. 

Huffing with impatience, she watched the girl desperately give the boy mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and then pump his chest. He was quite blue by now. 

"Please God!" the girl wailed looking up to the sky. 

One minute left. 

Death's eyes burned red with excitement. Her skin pale, as pale as death can be, quivered from the anticipation of consuming a soul. 

Five minutes left.

Five minutes? Five minutes! 

She looked up to the sky and groaned.

Make up your mind! 

The speedboat had reached shore and a team of paramedics were attending to the boy.

One hour left.

She was going to be late for her date. Damn. 

Death sat impatiently in the ambulance. The girl was holding the boys hand, crying.

Seventy four years, six months and twenty three hours left.
Death wanted to cry in frustration.

With a sigh, she dissolved into an invisible mist, heading straight for her date.

She had a lot of explaining to do to the Devil.

 

Congratulations, everybody! See you all on Saturday!

Year 1, Week 24: Results!

Welcome to the results roll for Week 24 (in which we had NINE entries! Thanks to everyone who participated--it was a great thing to wake up to on Sunday morning! So exciting :) ). I, Mars, will be your only judge today (and here's to hoping Si is doing well on her plane trips and interviews for fancy!colleges)!

Again, the memes were kind of Si's thing, so, well . . . have this cat!

This is actually my sister's cat, Zelda.
Zelda likes to play fetch with hairbands.
You're welcome.

Sufficiently distracted by the cute kitty? Good, good. Now we'll move onto results!

Honorable Mention

Liana Challender's The Drive

I like the premise of the piece--dad left years(?) before, girlfriend and brother go missing, and there's a surprise!flashdrive that might have answers on it, and I like the emotion of the mother. Unfortunately, there wasn't much else in the way of content here to talk about because the story isn't finished. It feels like the beginning of a short story or novel, since it doesn't have a full story arc. The problem--the missing people--wasn't solved and the story doesn't give any answers as to what might have caused their disappearances. So, while I thought the writing had potential, it wasn't actually flash fiction. 

First Runner Up

Firdaus' Some Body

I liked the opening scene with the whole "Am I dead?" question going on; definitely an engaging hook, particularly when we get to wondering what the heck the main character is doing in a lab--not a hospital, but a lab. I liked Jai's character fairly immediately--he definitely brings to mind a sort of mad scientist, cackling excitedly over his invention. 

The first conflict is resolved quickly and we don't get another conflict until just a few paragraphs to the end, which felt more for humor's sake than for plot. This isn't to say I didn't appreciate the humor--it made me laugh! An enjoyable piece. 

Winner of Y1W24!

Kim Pemberton 

with The Follow

The first thing that caught my attention about this piece was actually the peaceful/happy resolution of the story. Frequently, I like dark flash fictions (what better way to resolve a story than to kill everybody? Lol!), but I appreciated how the tension was building up for something horrible to happen, but then it didn't. 

I felt that some of the actions of the main character were not congruent with the tension of the piece--if I got home and somebody had been following me and I was worried enough that I was considering calling someone, I probably wouldn't go into the kitchen to get a drink and sit around for a few minutes before I checked what was up outside; I'd probably be making sure I knew where something heavy and/or sharp was at, and watching through the windows until they'd gone. I might even have my phone out in case I thought I should call someone.

The tension in paragraphs two and three was excellent; I could definitely picture the situation and sympathize with the main character. Enjoyable piece, and good writing. 

The Follow

“I told you it was only a theory,” I told myself when I came into the house. 

Dark night. I was coming home from school, head pounding, feet hurt, so much studying to do. But I could not sit down. Not for a second. I made sure my doors and windows were locked. Curtains closed. Turned the lights on. So far, silence. All I heard was my heart want to come out of my chest. 

When I was coming home, a man was following me from the subway. He was wearing a white sweatshirt, jeans, and black boots. He was walking in my direction. I tried to go on the other side of the street, he was still right behind me. I didn’t know what to do? Should I call the police? Should I call my boyfriend, Mike?

My dog Nelly came downstairs to greet me. “Hi, little guy. I’m sorry you were home alone today.” I went to the kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed a can of beer, and took a sip. The house was still quiet. I was afraid to turn on the television. I need to know what’s going on the local news if there are any suspicious activities going on in the neighborhood. But I could not sit down one bit. I was still worrying about that man that followed me home. 

I took a look out of the window, I saw the guy. The exact man by his description. He was walking slower, closer to my house. I place my beer on the table and went to my phone to call 911. I stopped for a second. He pulled off his hood, and went to my neighbor’s house. It was the owner’s son. That was a relief. Time for bed. “Come Nelly.”

Congratulations, all! Hope to see you all again next week. NINE entries this time around! Let's see if we can't top that next week :)

Year 1, Week 22: Results!

Oh my goodness. There were so many good entries this week that it was hard to chose! Seriously, the struggle has been real.

Also, if you have not seen the new Star Wars movie, DO IT! Or don't. Whatever. 

*Rin slips away into the dark sid- shadows*

Anywho... back to the reviews!

Honorable Mention

This week, we have a tie between two great contestants, Patrick Stahl with Safe Flight and Firdaus with The Test!

Si: (Safe Flight) I really liked the whole situation in this story. The conflict—is the auto pilot plane really safe? Can Stronson really trust Yi's assurances of safety? I like how we're oriented in the story world pretty much immediately. The dialogue provides basically all the details to the reader, but does so as part of the discussion which we're also involved in—very effective! I like how we get a taste of their personalities through this brief encounter—bluff, hearty Admiral Yi, cautious and skeptical Major Stronson. The humor amused me, especially the last line--”Major Stronson saluted Admiral Yi and coaxed his body into the Sparrowhawk’s coffin—or cockpit, as the Air Force insisted it be called—and prayed that it wouldn’t become his casket today or any day soon.” I also like the hint of a very different world that we get from the brief farewell: “On behalf of the thirty-eight remaining states of America...” I would have liked to see more details from the story world in the piece—who are they fighting? Why? Why 38 remaining states? Overall, a very cleanly written piece with good character interactions. Well done!

(The Test) The characters in this story are very likable and fun, I enjoyed the childish situation (though really, it's quite a serious one—runaway kid and mysterious girl sitting on working railroad tracks, then recklessly jumping into a big river … ). The writing and interactions between the characters make it seem exhilarating, as the main character surely sees it. This interaction is particularly well done: “"Good," she grinned, "because I can't."”I liked the way the main character's history is slipped into the story. The moments after the main character hits the water are also very well written: “I couldn't be bothered to catch any, I was struggling to stay afloat. She was bobbing at a little distance. I needed to get to her.” High tension and very immediate action. One thing I wanted while reading this story was more details about the characters and their setting—I'm not entirely sure how old both characters are, and there aren't any clues to this “Test” that the main character undergoes (test for what? Why is the main character being tested? Who is she and why is she testing MC?). Intriguing story and great writing!

Rin: (Safe Flight) This was a fun story! It was reminiscent of something you’d seen in an episode of an older military comedy show, like M.A.S.H. or the like, which I enjoyed. I immediately liked Major Stronson’s personality and booed Admiral Yi’s lack of concern for the safety of his pilots. They played well off each other, the protag and antag clearly obvious. The story had a great balance of tension and comedy relief. The idea of a vest warbling angrily made me crack up. That last sentence was a perfectly amusing wrap up and my favorite of them. Well done!

(The Test) I thoroughly enjoyed this story. Behind the first, lighthearted impression of the boy trying to impress the girl, is the harsher reality of their homeless/runaway situation, giving it a warm, but gritty tone. The pace of the story kept moving right along and I liked the dialogue in this; short, with good flow, and realistic, lending their speakers distinctiveness. Like Si, I also wish that there were more explained behind the significance of the test, but overall thought this a good piece flash fiction. Nice job!

First Runner Up

David Novak with Safe

Si: First off, interesting choice of POV here! Though we're seeing things from first person, the frequent use of “you” is an unusual choice but it works here. It draws in the reader to immediately be involved with the story, especially with the accusatory tone. I liked the way “safe” is played with in the story here—we hear both character's views, but we also see them, in their manner of speech. I like how we aren't given the whole picture, only pieces to figure out what their relationship is, and what happened. I loved the ending—great imagery with “Every word you ever said, you swung as hard as you could. You made sure to shatter something. To leave an impact. Nothing was ever safe with you.” and the main character's somewhat frightening conclusion “Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.” Something I would change would be around this line: “And I left behind all those unspoken words in favor of the safe ones.”, I don't think it is necessary to explicitly say “safe words” or “safe ones,” I think it would be better to leave it as implied as the reader has clues already from the previous exchange that the MC is very safe in their choice of words. This is a story whose word choice makes it very in-your-face, very dynamic and real. The balance of descriptive imagery and tension is well done. Great story!

Rin: I’m personally not one for first person povs or audience characters, but this was an exception. I really like all the metaphorical imagery in this one and the tension that was built off the parent-child relationship between them. Both feel fully developed and distinguishable from one another, realistic. My favorite line was ‘Like you could swing a sledgehammer and be fine with the foundation and the walls and the roof just crumbling all around you.’ I could just see it in my mind. How the thoughts of the parent character change toward the child character at the end made for a nice bit of development and a well-done wrap up. Good job!

Y1W22 WINNER!

Molly Morrow

with Safe Harbor

Si: I think what I liked most about this story was the narrator's voice and personality shining through, even though they talk more about Delia than themselves. Delia is definitely a living character in this story: crazy and passionate and a bit creepy. Both the narrator and Delia feel very alive. I liked the first person POV, and the little snippets of life and description we get—leaving the imagination to fill in the details, to infer the personality guiding Delia's actions. My favorite line was the last one: “She cups a hand to my ear and says she’ll never have kids, she’ll never get old – she’ll just roam the country like Odysseus after the storm. ” Beautiful! One thing I would look out for is some tense changes which were a little confusing—I'm not sure if they were intentional or not. “You’re sick I said. I would think Child Protective Services is on speed dial at this point. But it’s not my place.” (I said, I would think, it's/it is). I love the progression of the piece and the ordering of the little snippets of life. Starting out with something worrisome about her personality, then shifting to her wild aliveness, then back to a snippet of her past that contrasts with the first one—she'll never have kids. The writing is very expressive. Beautiful piece!

Rin: Wow, just wow. This story set me on edge right from the start! The tension is palpable and the pov character’s nostalgia for the better days gives it an melancholy tone. The two siblings feel well developed and are clearly distinct, the calm, stable pov character and Delia, a free soul made twisted by her mental instability. There’s lots of good descriptive bits and it makes it easy to remember along with the pov character. My favorite line of it was definitely ‘Before there was any shadow over our lives, before we had any feeling of danger, any run-in with a stranger to make the hair stand up on the back of our necks.’ I love how it gives the sense that the story has a lot of back story under its surface. Gives it a weightier feel and makes me wish that I knew what it was. Excellent story!

Safe Harbor

I’m not sure we have the same definition of ‘safe.’ Delia once held her baby boy over the railing of the Bremerton ferry and giggled hysterically before I scooped him back into my arms and held him inside of my coat for the rest of the ride. She said it made her dizzy, knowing she could drop the kid. Just knowing she had that power made her giddy. You’re sick I said. I would think Child Protective Services is on speed dial at this point. But it’s not my place. Nights when it rains and I’m alone in bed I close my eyes and see Delia running through the field behind our house in a spring-time monsoon, running like when we were kids. Before there was any shadow over our lives, before we had any feeling of danger, any run-in with a stranger to make the hair stand up on the back of our necks. I see her running with her hands outstretched like airplane wings, cutting through the braided grass. The rain comes down hard and the garden shed looks like it will fall over into the bay. We lock ourselves in and feel the thunder through the slatted boards and see the lightning like a flash from an old camera. Her face is bizarre and warped in the light, giggling in that same hysterical way, that same giddy dizzy way. She cups a hand to my ear and says she’ll never have kids, she’ll never get old – she’ll just roam the country like Odysseus after the storm.

Excellent writing all. We hope you join us again next week!

Year 1, Week 14: Results!

Somehow, despite this:

Did you guys see the eclipse? It was pretty cool. 

and this:

Astrobiologists: YAY, WE'RE RELAVENT
The water must flow.

Si and I managed to write our reviews! We appreciated the numerous entries that flowed in before midnight (it was actually a pleasant surprise that we had more than two lonely entries without reminders earlier in the day XD. I found an application called Twuffer that I'm totally going to use. Or maybe I'll just never sleep. I like the sound of that second one), and we enjoyed all of your stories.

Honorable Mention

Denman Billy's The Man Trapped Inside Himself

Si: Interesting entry! I love the imagery in the poem, and the repetition of the hand and yellow eyes. The story the man told was pretty crazy but also sad--being forced to constantly move around, never finding a home. The last stanza is my favorite, and the most poignant. I really liked the lines:

“But something was twisted inside my heart,
Was bent out of shape, and unable to mend.
I was doomed to put my soul on the window,”

I would love for this tone to be carried through the poem more. I’m curious whether the stories the man tells are real or from his imagination? With a piece like this, it could go either way (metaphors or crazy real life?). Great poem!

Mars: This one took a lot of thinking to come up with any ideas of what was going on. On the first few read throughs, all I could say to myself was that I really liked the overall sound of the poem (it's close to iambic pentameter and it rhymes; I must be a sucker for classic, structured poetry). Then I considered the title--"The Man Trapped Inside Himself"--and wondered if perhaps the man is talking to himself, or a part of himself, anyways (another hint was '282 reflections'). I think my favorite repeating line was, "So quiet, so still, so carefully calm," and was disappointed when the last line didn't parallel this: "With no cure, no comfort, and no balm"--I would probably have changed 'and no' to a three-syallable word to reflect 'carefully.' It would have really brought the last line home. 

So, I know I said I like the overall sound, but there were some things that didn't work for me in the flow of the poem. "Blood red moon," "It doesn't help," "neurotic," "pneumonia monkey" -- all of these phrases and others nearly put my tongue in a jam when I tried to say them! I think that something that doesn't help here is that, while the poem resembles iambic pentameter quite a bit, the syllable structure is varied in an awkward way. If it were me, I'd probably try to stick to more 10-syllable lines for the first 10 lines (of each stanza), then maybe throw in a 9 and 11 at the end, or vice versa (11/9 front, 10 for rest). 

The meaning is still a little lost on me, but I like the emotion of the three stanzas: the first seems ponderous and humorous, while the second has a lost feeling, and the third was somber and sorrowful. The third was my favorite; it flowed the best. The poem, overall, seems like a story about trying to fit in, perhaps, and never quite figuring it out. (I don't get symbolism and metaphors very well, though, so this is a total guess.)

The meaning of a poem often varies from individual to individual; it's much harder to parse through than a story, for certain (and I know I've thrown lines into poetry simply because I like the sound of them. Troll!Poet). This piece certainly gives a reader a lot to think about!

First Runner-Up

Firdaus' The Window

Si: Wow, what an intense story! Great “show, not tell.” Great descriptions! The image of the child writing “Help Me” in a foggy window, then hearing the abuser speak behind him is chilling. THE ENDING. The whole story is very emotional without seeming like it’s trying to be, to put it badly. It shows a lot of intensity without over-describing or over-telling. There were a few things like: “My stepfather was on his knees and a policeman was towering over him.”--where I would double-check that the story was staying in the same POV (His vs My), and a few other small issues. I love that the woman remains mostly a figure--we don’t have much description about her, which keeps the focus on the boy. Great story!

Mars: The tension in this piece is great. There's a good bit of "show, not tell," going on here--until the end of the fourth paragraph, we don't know what's wrong. 'Has he been kidnapped?'; 'Is he stuck somewhere accidentally?'; 'Who's the woman?'; 'Why is he so scared?' These questions ran through my head as I read through it. 

The piece felt rushed in the middle, mostly when the stepfather appears, and it's revealed who's the abuser. ". . . as he was yanked from the window and thrown against the wall, before he blacked out" was the line that particularly stood out to me, and then him waking up the next line; compared to the first five paragraphs, it was a jarring transition to jump so quickly between thoughts. (Also, it was a nice bit of realism that he wet himself. I think I'd have trouble writing that.) 

My favorite line, the most gut-punching one, of course, was the last line. It also, sadly, mimicked a lot of real-life scenarios, and showed us how much danger the little boy was in, since we can infer that she didn't die of natural causes.

Without further ado, the moment you're dying for--

Y1W14 Winner:

Steph Ellis!

with Happy Ever After

Si: Love how there’s two layers to this story--the father-daughter relationship, and also the plot with the witch. Excellent writing! Not a word wasted, I love how we can see character development as well as a plot in such a short, tight piece of writing. The beginning is sinister, the middle is heartwarming, the ending is suspenseful. Beautiful weaving of several threads in this story. I might add a few more details hinting at the witch/king/princess plot earlier in the story, in a way that you don’t realize it until you reach the end. Great dialogue and handling of tension. Well done!

Mars: (Dangit, Steph, we're going to have to ban you from winning soon XD Stop writing so well!) This was both sweet and disturbing at the same time. Possibly more disturbing because it's sweet. It leaves me wondering if the father is a psycho or if the mother is an abuser (or both), with his repeated thoughts of fragility, and the references to the mother being witch-like. 

I would watch out for too many same-structured sentences clustered together; I notice a lot of the sentences start off with 'He' or 'She.' It would also be great to know what brings on this murderistic tendency in the father, but perhaps he's just like that. 

My favorite line was probably, "He turned out the light and made his way down the stairs, his crown weightless, his bearing regal." I'm not sure quite what it is about that line, but it just paints a very vivid, stately picture in my mind, and it sounds really nice. The most disturbing bit, in hindsight: "He bent down and kissed her forehead. 'And a king to kill the witch.'" The incongruity of what he's likely already planning to do and the sweetness of tucking a child in just don't click in the brain, and it's horrifying. 

Happy Ever After

He put his hand back on the window, the yellow eyes wide open on his palm. He spread his fingers, imagining how it would feel to clasp the small feline skull, twist it, crush it until it became nothing. 

“Daddy, Daddy.” 

He dropped his hand, brushed the top of his daughter’s head. So small, so fragile. 

“Let kitty in,” she demanded. 

“Sorry.” He smiled down at her. “Kitty has to stay out at night. You know the rules.” 

Annie pouted and folded her arms, annoyed at not getting her own way. Just like her mother. 

“Come on now, time for bed.” He scooped her up, felt the bird-like flutter of her heart against his chest. 

“Can’t I have a story?” she pleaded as he tucked her in. 

“Not tonight, kiddo,” he said. “Daddy’s got too much to do. But tomorrow night I’ll have a new story for you … I promise.” 

“A story with a wicked witch?” 

He laughed. “Yes, there’s a witch.” 

“And a beautiful princess?” 

“Yes, and a beautiful princess.” 

“And a king to kill the witch?” 

He bent down and kissed her forehead. “And a king to kill the witch.”

He turned out the light and made his way down the stairs, his crown weightless, his bearing regal. He returned to the window, watched as yellow headlights swung into the drive.

The witch was back.

He pressed his hand against the glass; covered her approaching face, felt the cold fragility beneath his fingers.

Write about what you know they said.

Advice he intended to follow. He adjusted his crown and went to the door.

Thanks for participating, everyone :D Also, Paul, that story was quite weird. Very reminiscent of the heart of Cracked Flash Fiction, I think!

Year 1, Week 12: Results!

We want you to know that though there were only three entries, we thought all of them earned their spots on the result's roll this week. They were all excellent stories, and all well-written. 

Also, tired Mars is way too tired to come up with something witty to say here this week. Who knew that working for your money would make you tired? (*Recently got a job*) Get thee to congratulating the winners.

Honorable Mention

Firdaus' Letting Go

Mars: I actually rather like how you mutilated the prompt for this. It was a great way to introduce two contrasting characters; the daughter is given a light-hearted, angelic sort of feel, while the father is given a dark and brooding one. 

The piece has a bit of a monotonous feel to it--I'd suggest watching out for sentences that start the same way: "She danced well", "The young man bent", "The room exploded", "He couldn't take it". The phone call feels more natural than the story (good dialogue!) because the sentence structures are more varied. 

At first I kind of thought he was a dance tutor of some sort for the daughter, which seemed really creepy, but the jig was up for me at the beginning of the phone call--who would call their old tutor to tell them they were doing well? It was cleverly done.

Rin: The main character was very well done, feeling fully developed. I liked how the little hints throughout had me thinking that the pov character was an old dance instructor/lover of the girl's, then twists around to show him as being the girl's father. My favorite line was 'But as he watched her look lovingly into the young man's eyes he felt the cold fingers of jealousy curl around his heart.' as it was good description. I enjoyed the dialogue between the characters, it felt natural and realistic. Nicely done.

First Runner-Up

Steph Ellis' Babylon

Mars: Oh man, haven't people learned by now not to revive dead people? Simon and Jenni should watch The Mummy. Or even think about it: what if you accidentally resurrected Hitler? This seems like a bad plan, guys. Pretty much my favorite part about this piece was the irony. "Lol it would be funny if it was Babylon"; "Pah, no way"; "BABYLON used RESURRECTION!"; "What have we done?!" (Excuse my terrible sense of humor >.>)

The thing that strikes my curiosity the most is the line, "Such stories had no relevance anymore." It's a little disappointing that there was nothing else about what had happened by 2050 to make religion irrelevant (but, of course, there's only so much one can do with 300 words, so it's forgivable.)

It feels like there should be a DUN DUN DUNNN at the end of the piece; the sudden tone shift from humorous and boredom to OH NOES was great. 

Rin: I loved the building tension in this! The futuristic setting added to the creepy tone and the little bits of description were done well, making it easy to picture. I liked how the characters' distinctness was clearly shown in just a few words. My favorite line was, "Then they lifted the lid and those coal black eyes looked right at them, right into them. She smiled a terrible smile.” It gives just a perfect sense of impending doom! I thoroughly enjoyed the seven guests as a reference to the beast in Revelations; it was a great touch. Great story! 

And now, put your hands together foooorrr--

Y1W12 Winner!

Carin Marais

with Life on Canvas

Mars: The first thing that attracted me to this piece is how elegant it sounds. I also really like the color descriptions (well, I like colors, so usually they're more descriptive to me than other words; they set the mood of the scene); they brought the piece to life.

The sentence "He never did bother learning names," took me a bit to figure out. The pronoun can refer to either Jarl or the patron in this instance, because we have "She had always called him Jarl" in the next sentence. 

It's really great how Jarl's mood fits the somber dignity of the piece, even though we know by the end that this is killing him. There's no cliche "Oh woe is me angstangst," but just matter-of-fact thought processes and observations. That really drew the story's tone together. (Also, totally, that last line brought a great song to mind: Leader of the Pack.)

Rin: This was beautifully done. The slower pace was well matched to the tone of grief and the setting was easy to envision without being bogged down with too much description. It drew me in and the characters were done well. My favorite aspect of it was how fantastic an example of “show not tell” it was, the understated detail was masterfully done and made me feel Jarl's emotions, without saying even a bit too much or going too angsty. The only thing that I wish had been more clear was the meaning of “The man reached out to touch the threads, but the picture kept on changing as before.” In what way was the picture changing before? Were the finished pictures alive? Would have liked to find out, but regardless, this was an excellent piece. Loved it!

Life on Canvas

Her face was painted gold, her eyes hard and dark as coal. Lifeless upon the canvas, she stared out unseeing at the workshop. Her artist started adding more flourishes with his finest needle and silk. Jarl traced filigree with threads the colour of rubies, emeralds, and the finest silver. Sapphire strands lay ready to colour her eyes, but the artist did not pick that up yet. The eyes came last. He always brought the canvas to life that way.

The workshop fell quiet as their patron entered. The artist looked around and continued on while the patron inspected a finished tapestry against the far wall. It showed his son on the battlefield raising the banner bearing the family crest.

"It looks just like him!" the patron exclaimed. "It even smiles just like he did!" The man reached out to touch the threads, but the picture kept on changing as before.

"It will not respond like the living would," one of the artists said.

Jarl sat back and regarded his work. Though unmoving, she did look alive but for the eyes. Those eyes that once regarded him with love.

"You capture my daughter well, artist," the patron said. He never did bother learning names. She had always called him Jarl. Never sir Tellah or artist Tellah. If he closed his eyes he could still feel her lips on his.

Jarl nodded, not trusting his own voice.

"I am sure her new husband will like it as well. Will you be finished in time for their wedding tomorrow?"

Jarl nodded and picked up the blue thread while his eyes burned with tears. He had to remember her eyes when she was happy and in love. Not the way they looked on the day she had to say goodbye.

And that's the end. See you all next week! :D