Oh, I was giddy, yes, I was, to see what you all would do with the bridge and its passenger. Echoes of Terabithia, I thought, or perhaps Lothlorien, or Kwai. And you, clever writers, did all those things, but as ever, you also seized the prompt by its corners and reimagined beyond it. Worlds of wonder, you created. And worlds of horror and tragedy and courage and resilience. Yes! It was without question another week of phenomenal writing. Thank you so much for coming out and for supporting each other. It’s like having a massive family reunion (complete with the freaky but lovable uncle) each Friday, and I can’t imagine a week without y’all! Thank you!
It’s too late for me to manage a Flash Points this week (sorry!), but remember you can always take a gander at the other flash contests going on around the flash world here. Always something going on, so get writing!
Judge Anthony Marchese says, This week’s prompt was amazingly versatile, with the bridge serving as a passage to fantastic places. It was the start to one journey or the end of another. It became a thing of legend or a stage for epic conflict. I cross bridges every day, but I don’t think I’ll be able to look at them the same way again. I certainly won’t be taking them for granted.
And now for your results!! Comments by Anthony & the Flash! Friday team (because the Flash! Friday team loved these bridgy stories too much to resist chiming in).
Marie McKay, Untitled. Loved this reality-show type surveillance of eerie sounds affecting children across the globe.
Jake Kuyser, “Liathara of Woodley.” Creative story starring a selfless character who becomes a dragon’s apprentice–great take.
Nick Johns, “A Walk on the Wild Side.” A horrifying post-apocalyptic world featuring a strong-hearted girl who will do anything to get her siblings through it. That’s the kind of sister you want.
SECOND RUNNER UP
Steph B, “372 Planks.” The descriptions really brought this story to life for me. Told in the simple and innocent voice of a child, the story’s underlying tone of mystery and horror were only accentuated by the child’s perfectly detailed colors and numbers. And what an ending!
FIRST RUNNER UP
Brian J. Hunt, “Bridge Over the River Lethe.” Many people responded to this story, me among them. The mythology behind this intimate portrayal of a mother and son’s last moments was beautifully and artfully executed. I wish we could all throw cancer off a bridge like his mother did.
DRAGON WINNER IS….
for “The Wanderer”
While most stories focused on the girl, this story swapped lenses and instead brought to life the mysterious, architecturally wondrous world of bridges. Expressed in a story reading as personally and wistfully as a journal entry, this piece perfectly encapsulates bridges’ essence. Bridges, we’re reminded, aren’t confined to serving as means to an end: they can also be the end. They enchant, fire the imagination, and even sweep near danger while still keeping the wanderer safe. Amy’s story, like the bridges she describes, poetically spans both mountains and chasms and enables us all to feel, if only for a moment, we too are flying. What a beautiful and memorable story. Great job.
Congratulations, Amy! Here are your Winner’s Page, a glorious dragon eBadge (below), and your winning Tale. Please contact me asap (here) with your email address so I can interview you for Wednesday’s Sixty Seconds feature.
I was always an inquisitive child. If there was a path beneath my feet, I wondered where it led. Many’s the time I worried my mother, wandering off to ‘just see around the next bend’. If I happened across a stream, I splashed into it, eager to see what lay beneath its surface. Roads held the same fascination for me: where did they go? Being in the car at night, snug and safe in my seat with my parents in the front, was like heaven. The signs flew past, each one taking me closer to somewhere and further away from somewhere else, sheer magic.
But best of all, I remember, was bridges. If my wandering feet led me to a bridge, I had to step onto it. They were enchanted pathways, yellow brick roads to the unknown. Even if could see exactly what lay before me on the other side or if I’d trodden the same path a hundred times, it was still exciting.
I loved the slight pounding of my heart as I crossed over a raging river. My eyes couldn’t move fast enough to watch the cars if it spanned a busy road. Steep rocky gorges, peaceful mountain streams– they all passed beneath my feet and I felt like I was flying.
Legend says that trolls liked to live beneath bridges. I know that’s not true because I looked, every time. I’d hold on to the guard rails and hang as far over as I dared, making sure nothing unnatural lurked there.
Bridges still hold a peculiar fascination for me. I love nothing more than to stand on one and just stare into the sky. I’m older and supposedly wiser now but I still feel that maybe, if I really try hard, up on a bridge, I can reach the clouds.