Flash! Friday # 12 — WINNERS!

You all should know you tied our poor judge Patricia McCommas up in knots this week trying to make a decision! 

Patricia says: Choosing a winner is a very difficult task, because every single writer deserves a mention.  I had to read and reread all the stories! They are each winners in my book! I loved the humor pieces and the stories that dealt with our common fate……death. Thanks for inviting me to judge this week; I really enjoyed it.

And now let’s go straight to the results and Patricia’s comments!

Honorable Mentions

Jeffrey Hollar (@klingorengi) & Betsy Streeter (@betsystreeter) for their quirky humor stories; Robin Abess (@angelique_rider), Kayla West (@bookwormattack), and L. (@Thorns_n_claws)

Newsbrony (@critical_kurt) for “My Time is Coming.” This story is exceptional; it speaks of taking nothing for granted and appreciating every moment with the people we love because tomorrow is never promised to anyone.

RUNNERS UP (tied): 

Maggie Duncan (@unspywriter), for great mystery writing with a fabbie twist at the end.

Beth Peterson (@PotterBeth), “Artist’s Statement,” for being creative, fresh, and personally applicable. Her last line is a test to see who can hear what she is trying to say.

Kasey (@thedharmadiva), for a creative twist about life-the greatest show on earth- instead of death.

and…. our FLAME-TOSSIN’ WINNER….

MONICA HEFFNER!! (@monicaheffner)

This Flash! Friday first-timer’s story was heart-warming, timeless, relevant, and full of compassion. Dementia and Alzheimers is something most people can relate to in one way or another. It was clean, clear, inspiring, touching–just all around great writing on a universal subject. 

HUGE CONGRATULATIONS to Monica! Monica, pick up your eMedal below and flash it with pride! Here is your own Flash! Friday winner’s page and your fiery winning tale:

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The old wood floor was cold under my feet as I slowly left the comforts of my warm bed. I could hear mother downstairs, and what sounded like the door opening. Her early wanderings told me it was a difficult night.

She had lived eighty-three sane years, but the last three had not met those expectations. Nothing brought her to the present anymore. She yearned for her farm days and friends at her little church. Five years ago, before the church had been destroyed, she had insisted on buying every chair that had been in her beloved church and held the memories of her long ago friends. Those memories seemed to be all that she had left.

I walked to the window to have a glimpse of the day, but as I pulled the curtains back, I was not prepared for the sight before me. Mother had placed every chair from the church into the yard and was slowly wondering from chair to chair perusing each chair and then smiling in fond memory as if each chair held a long lost friend. I knew this was the reunion she had longed for, even if not real in my world.