Archive | May 2013

Flash! Friday # 25 — WINNERS!

Boundless thanks, mermaids/mergrooms/merfolk of all ages, for coming out to splash with us at Flash! Friday. Yet again you all spun our prompt in dozens of inventive directions, wrenching the sea maiden from Hans Christian Andersen’s grip and making her your own. Thanks also to our own glorious sea maiden, judge Maggie Duncan, for her fearless turn at the wheel.

Of course, be sure to check back Monday to see which of your stories will star at Flash Points; and join me Tuesday for Dragon Munchies. Wednesday will feature an interview with today’s winner. Always a party here at Flash! Friday; be sure to check back!


Judge Maggie Duncan says, I’ll confess I’ve always had a fascination with merpeople, so I was very excited to see this week’s offerings; the participants didn’t disappoint. I got a good dose of mer-mythology to last me a while.

Once again, choosing between two contenders for the top spot was hard. Both the winner and the runner-up (not to mention the HMs) had great stories. Ultimately, the winner’s story and its “hope in the future” theme appealed to what I like in a story, a promise of better times to come. Thanks again for a great time and great stories.



Craig Anderson“The Little Merman.” Most guys I know would love to have this little merman’s problem. This was a tale (no pun intended) with a great metaphor, and it made me chuckle at the unique situation to his problem. 

Dragonsflypoppy, “Songs of the Waves.” A sweet, engaging story, and a wonderful final line. 

Anthony Marchese, “Cycles.” This was very engaging and unique and appealed to the dystopia lover in me. It was probably the best structured story of the bunch, but some technical issues cost it points.


Hannah Streett“Never Love a Human.” Very well-executed. We can just about taste the bitterness in our own mouths, and imagine how resentful we’d be to get this torture every night. Nicely told, and a powerful closing line

And our Flash! Friday first-time gold medalist, stunningly creative, ever-beloved



for her untitled tale.  Good, authentic dialogue, and both a unique use of the prompt and a unique concept, all well-executed. This story made me hopeful that we can solve any conflict with sufficient time and the open minds of our grandchildren.

Congratulations, Alissa! Here are your Winner’s Page, your fancy pants eBadge, and your winning Tale. Please contact me asap (here) with your email address so I can interview you for Wednesday’s Sixty Seconds feature.


“Popi, are Mermaids real?” Adella asked, frowning at the statue.

“Of course, Little One; do you think the sculptor just made it up?”

“Well, why don’t we ever see them?”

“I’m not sure you’re ready for that story, Dearest. Five is still quite young…”

“I’ll be six next month, Popi. I’m not too little.”

“Your Momma wouldn’t approve.”

“Momma won’t mind. She says I’m a big girl all the time. Truly.”

“I don’t doubt it, Darling, but there’s a lot of history you don’t know yet, and it would take a long time to tell.”

“Like what? I know lots of things, Popi!”

“I know, Sweetheart, but you haven’t learned about the war yet… War’s a hard topic for a five year old-”

“Almost six.”

“Almost six year old. And the treaty is a little hard to explain…”

“What’s a treaty?”

“Exactly. You don’t even know what one is, let alone the complicated reasoning behind-”

“Well, I’d know if you would tell me.”

“Alright. It’s an agreement between two people, or two groups of people.”

“That seems simple enough.”

“Yes, but when you add all the clauses and stipulations… Nevermind. You don’t need to know all that. Look at her.” He knelt and gestured toward the statue, “Which way does she face?”

“East, right?”

“Yes. And what happens in the east?”

“The sun rises?”

“Yes, and with the sun comes a new day, a new opportunity to make things right.”

“Did we make things wrong before?”

“There was wrong all over the place, but that’s not the point. Someday – someday soon – the Time of Separation will be over. She looks at the dawning of each new day, waiting for the fulfillment of the treaty. You could be a part of that new generation, living together.”

“I could meet a mermaid.” She stared in open-mouthed wonder at the possibility.


Flash! Friday # 25

And with a splash Flash! Friday Round 25 is now closed. Thanks for coming out to swim with us this week. Please don’t forget to read & comment on the stories–your participation and encouragement make this community so effective–thank you! The judge’s results will post tomorrow (Saturday ET). See you then!

Hello everyone, and welcome to #FlashFridayFic Round 25. We’ve left last week’s shootouts behind and are plunging into the watery depths of a completely different world today. What sort of world? That’s YOUR job to determine! (Here are your navigational guidelines).

Our stalwart Round 25 ship is captained by fearless, never-looks-back sea maiden, SVW member Maggie Duncan. (Be sure to check out her judge page for the inside judging scoop.)

And now… if you’re ready to walk the plank…

Word limit: 300-word story (10-word leeway on either side) based on the photo prompt.

* How: Post your story here in the comments. Include your word count (between 290 – 310 words, exclusive of title) and Twitter handle if you’ve got one.

* Deadline: 11:59pm ET tonight (check the world clock if you need to; Flash! Friday’s on Myrtle Beach time)

Winners: will post tomorrow (Saturday)

Prize: A wistfully splendid e-trophy e-dragon e-badge, a personalized mariner’s page here at FF, a glorious, storm-chasing, death-defying, depths-plunging 60-second interview feature next Wednesday, and YOUR NAME in glowing golden galleons splashed across the skies (so to speak). NOTE: Winning and non-winning stories alike remain eligible for selection for Monday’s Flash Points. 

* Follow @FlashFridayFic on Twitter for up-to-date news/announcements/dragon navigational checklists.  And now for your prompt:

Photo courtesy of Johnny Berg

“The Little Mermaid,” sculpture by Evard Eriksen. Photo courtesy of John Nyberg

Just for Fun: “Terminal”

Photo courtesy of Lorettaflame, morguefile

Photo courtesy of Lorettaflame, morguefile


by Rebekah Postupak

Written for Trifecta Week 78 

275 words

Before the cancer diagnosis, Patrick was quite possibly the most pedantic student at Central High.

“Sometimes I bore even myself,” he told me one day at lunch. This epiphany didn’t stop him from picking all the pepperoni off his pizza, though.

My friends called him RB behind his back, after the cases of Red Bull they swore I needed to hang out with him. Nobody understood why I loved him, how I could have found his unpretentious plainness… relaxing, I guess it was, or his quirky obsessions endearing. I didn’t bother trying to explain. How could I? Our love was deep. Extraordinary. Eternal.

If the cancer hadn’t suddenly seized him in its jaws our senior year, however, no one except me would have remembered him at all.

But “That sweet dying boy,” they called him now.

And “my good friend, the one with cancer.”

Or “this popular kid at school—yeah, I know him pretty well—he hasn’t got much time left.”

Even “Sure, I’ll talk about him on camera. What do you want to know?”

No one ever asked me anything.

Girls swooned over Patrick, walked around humming the stumbling tunes he played them on his clarinet, quoted his awkward phrasings like poetry. Boys were no better, clapping him on the back like a star quarterback, inviting him to sit on the bench during games as a good luck charm. Teachers, equally susceptible to the bewitchments of youthful tragedy, nudged occasional As into his report card just because they could.

The day we found out Patrick was dying of cancer is the day he began to live.

And the day I lost him forever.