Curious timing, I find, that the week before Mothers’ Day so many writers killed off their beloved mothers for this week’s prompt, or turned their mothers into splendiferous aliens. We did see our share of dystopian tales, gigantic apocalypses which stopped us in time and wrenched our hearts out. Magnificent writing, everyone–and a big huge HOWDY to the new folks!
As always, please check back Monday to see which of your stories will be highlighted at Flash Points, and join me Tuesday for Dragon Munchies and my own wee tale. Wednesday will feature an interview with today’s winner. And new stories will pop up throughout the week. Check back often!
Judge Beth Peterson says, Just like the prompt, golden light spilled across this week’s Flash! Friday’s entries. You all make it tough on a judge! I commend you all, each and every one!
AmyBeth Inverness, Untitled, for the sheer fun of a unique dragon propellant.
Alissa Leonard, “Sunrise of a New World,” ’cause we have all had to grab our parents’ attention like that somewhere along the line.
RUNNERS UP (TIED)
Betsy Streeter, Untitled, and Maggie Duncan, “The Damascus Road,” came in neck and neck hard on the heels of the winning tale. Both are very poignant, solid and complete stories although they are very different tales. Loved them both.
And first-time winner (these-monsters-look-awfully-familiar)
DRAGON WINNER IS….
for “Winter’s Refuge.” This story really pulled me in; the sights, the sounds (especially of the snow crunching under the boots) and the wash of the heat from the open oven… all contributed to a very well-written, immersive story. The reader-driven probability of a misdirect gave this slice of life story and added boost of pleasure.
Congratulations, Aria! Here are your Winner’s Page, your eBadge (below), and your winning Tale. Please contact me asap with your email address so I can interview you for Wednesday’s “Sixty Seconds” feature.
Shadowed figures plodded toward her, silhouetted against the setting sun. They blended together into one undefined mass, then separated into two distinct lumps – one half the size of the other – and congealed again, morphing with each movement.
Lacey let her book drift to her lap as she watched the slow progression through the steam around her cottage. The kitchen timer sounded, calling her away from the mesmerizing sight so that dinner wouldn’t burn.
A steady crunching accompanied the sounds of lasagna being pulled out of the oven and set on the counter. They were getting closer. Lacey left the oven open so its heat flooded the small kitchen and adjacent living room.
The crunching grew louder then suddenly stopped. Lacey’s head swiveled to watch the front door open, revealing two looming lumps. She dropped the oven mitts.
The smaller shape barreled toward her, shedding white powder all over the wooden floor.