WELCOME TO FLASHVERSARY and the final contest here at Flash! Friday before we close our doors. I’m going to save my mushiest stuff for the winners’ post on Tuesday (to sum up: I looooooove you!), but let me just say up front that this contest is always my favorite each year, because it’s when I get to thank and honor you for your amazing writing and all-round gorgeousness. Three years! Who’d have thought it?!

In the meantime, if you’re in the mood and feeling brave/ornery, please feel welcome to follow me on Twitter & friend me on Facebook. I’d love to stay nosy connected.

Here’s a quick look at how Flashversary will work this year: you will have 24 hours, as always, to submit your story on a single prompt. That’s it! No second round this time; we’re keeping it short ‘n’ sweet. As thanks and so everyone can participate, I will be judging alone (however, the stories will be stripped so I can judge blind). Write your most fabulous, write in your favorite genre, play with form if you wish, have a blast. This is the last Flash! Friday contest ever: make it count. ♥ 


Before we move on to Flashversary itself (and all the yummy PRIZES!), I need to hand the mic to my darlings at Dragon Team Five for a moment — that’s Foy Iver & Holly Geely, of course! — to share some final thoughts with you, as they’d been cruelly denied the opportunity:

Foy: The only thing worse than saying goodbye, is not having the chance to. But I want to be careful not to write a eulogy. 

Thank you, thank you, Rebekah, for your hard work, attention, insights, and time. You push forward the better writer — the better self! — in me, and for that, I’m eternally grateful. 

A thousand thank you’s and imaginary roses (I hope you’re not allergic) to the wonderful, fun, and timely Holly Geely. Folks, she made Team Five tick! 

And thanks to every one of you who made Flash! Friday the supportive womb that it is. As long as the dragon flame burns, fearful yet overcoming, in our ribs than this gathering’s purpose is alive. I’m excited for this community bursting with talent, I’m hopeful that we’ll pursue excellence in bigger and brighter spheres, and I’m certain that the ashes of this phoenix will send us off on bolder wings.

Holly: Without Flash! Friday I would never have had the guts to publish my book or submit my short stories anywhere; I would have remained lost in the void. I’ve met so many lovely people and read so many wonderful stories. I’ve learned how to combat the writers block that I now know was a lack of confidence. I’ve discovered my style. 

Enough about me, though… I want to thank my partner in crime for being so much fun! She has been nothing but encouraging and she laughs at my lame jokes so I hope we are friends forever. 

It’s sad to say goodbye so I won’t; I know I’ll see you all around and I hope we can continue to make flash fiction like champions.



Grand Dragon Champion

-a Flashversary poster printed with your winning story,
-a Flash! Friday commemorative poster,
-a Flash! Friday commemorative mug
-a FF community book & art prize basket including:
FlashDogs Anthologies (following February publication, paper version), from Flashdogs HQ
Mortal MusingsLife Under Examination, by Aria Glazki (ebooks)
Silverwood, by Betsy Streeter (paper version)
The Gantean + The Cedna, by Emily June Street (paper or digital, winner’s choice)
A Man of Character A Matter of Time, by Margaret Locke (paper versions)
Kindle the Flame Mark of Four, by Tamara Shoemaker (paper versions)
Haunting ValleyScrappy Information Security, by Michael Seese (paper versions)
The Dragon’s Toenail, by Holly Geely (paper version)
* The Better SpyThe Yellow Scarf, by Maggie Duncan (paper versions)
On Writing (Stephen King) & Lost Ocean (Johanna Basford coloring book), from Casey Rose Frank
Drawn By a Star (Meg Robinson) & personally crafted notecards, from F.E. Clark
Blood for Blood, by Ben Wolf (ebook)
* Take the Reins, by Siobhan Muir (ebook)
* Wisdom & Folly, Part I & Wisdom & Folly, Part II, by Michele Israel Harper (Kindle/Nook) 
* Original artwork, by M.T. Decker

1st Runner Up:  One Flashversary poster printed with your winning story, a Flash! Friday commemorative poster, a FF commemorative mug, and your choice of an anthology from the upcoming (February) Flashdogs collection   

2nd Runner Up: A Flash! Friday commemorative poster and a FF commemorative item 

3rd Runner Up: A Flash! Friday commemorative poster and a FF commemorative item

Honorable Mentions: A Flash! Friday commemorative poster

Wall of Flame lottery: A Flash! Friday commemorative poster & mug; a copy of Calum Kerr’s The 2014 Flash365 Anthology; a year’s subscription to all three Splickety imprints



(Questions? Tweet @FlashFridayFic or email Flash! Friday here.)


* As always, limit TWO ENTRIES per person, submitted as a comment to this post. Note: Proofread carefully: as I’m judging, no corrections or changes will be made to your entry once you submit it. Usual content restrictions apply.
* Submission window: As always, open from 12:01am until 11:59pm, Friday, Dec 11 Washington, DC time (24 hours)
* What happens next: I (Rebekah) will judge your stories; they will be stripped of ID so I can judge blind. Results will post a day later than normal, on Tuesday.  

WINNERS ANNOUNCED: Tuesday, December 15, 2015 at 7:30am Washington, DC time. This will include the winner of the #WallofFlame drawing. 

Note: The Flash! Friday site will officially close on Friday, Dec 18. You will see a static hello screen; but your stories, all the Spotlight & Sixty Seconds interviews, Flash Points, and winners’ pages will remain accessible.  


Round One Word Count: 100 words exactly, no more, no less. 

How to Enter: Post your entry (maximum of two per writer) here in the comments. Include your word count (100 words exactly, exclusive of title/byline) and Twitter handle if you’ve got one (if not, be sure to link your email address or some way for us to contact you). Be sure to proofread; once your entry is submitted, no changes or corrections are able to be made.

**And now for your final Flashversary prompt!** 

The very first Flash! Friday prompt posted on December 7, 2012. Some of those original writers (there were fewer than 15 that day!) are still writing with us: Maggie Duncan, Anthony Marchese, & Susan Warren Utley are names you might recognize, along with my darling Beth Peterson, who left our world in September.  

And since the end of a story so often echoes its beginning, it’s only right that our final prompt mirrors our first one.

  • Write a 100 word story (100 words exactly, exclusive of title/byline) that begins with the following sentence:

On Friday everything changed.

OPTIONAL PHOTO PROMPT (not required; for inspiration only):

"Balancing on the Brink." Eagle Peak Summit, Chugach Mountains, Alaska. CC2.0 photo by Paxson Woelber.

“Balancing on the Brink.” Eagle Peak Summit, Chugach Mountains, Alaska. CC2.0 photo by Paxson Woelber.

733 thoughts on “FLASHVERSARY Bash!

  1. I Was Fricasseed on Friday, Wondering Where the Time Went, Remembering that Weak-Willed Woman With a Good Heart Who Didn’t Treat Me All That Badly, Blues

    On Friday everything changed.

    It’s not like anyone was tickling the ivories in the back room of Mona’s Saloon or ringing my bell in Madison Square. I could have been stuffed in the deep freeze with Pearl and her dead canary, Appalachia, for all anyone cared.

    Winston Blake was a shattered wreck when he finally reached me at the Mountain View Cemetery and Pool Hall.

    “You owe me, Sam. My back’s outta whack, my artificial knees are so bad they need WD-40. I can’t be moving corpses in my condition.”

    I had loved Pearl once. She deserved a decent send-off.

    100 farewells


  2. The Vocabulary Learned from Suffering

    On Friday everything changed.

    Thursday started wonderfully. A little preparation before a meal together—new traditions, old friends.

    What had He said it meant?

    Thursday night we tried to pray, and were scolded for failing.

    Why was He stressed?

    Soldiers, swords, torches, and betrayal answered the question.

    Why hadn’t we prayed harder?

    Friday they tried Him; Friday they killed Him. We scattered, each to drown privately in their personal anguish. Saturday didn’t exist, having been swallowed by fear and guilt.

    Why didn’t we do more?

    Sunday morning started with a deep hopelessness, then joyfully taught us a new word—Resurrection.

    100 Words Exactly


  3. After a Few Too Many Beers Whilst Bellying Up To the Flash Friday Bar

    On Friday everything changed.

    The sweet sun slipped a bit lower,
    glowed a little less brightly,
    or so it seemed
    to those of us who,
    stoking our alphabet fires,
    weaving our wandering words,
    are always dreaming, shaping, moulding,
    framing small shanties of sharpened solace.

    the words will still be there to weave
    into compact quilts of beauty,
    brief blazing baubles,
    bouncing, buoyant,
    pursuing gentle escape,
    squirming, shifting in their jumble,
    looking for respite
    from the catacombs of chaos,
    chasing unique structure,
    order within a condensed vision,
    a commune of flash fictionistas,
    writers who know
    that on Friday,
    everything changed.

    100 Odes Paved With The Best Of Intentions


  4. Right on Brother!
    Ian Martyn (@IBMartyn)
    100 words and many, many thanks for my Friday distraction

    On Friday everything changed. Why? Because I decided it was time, OK. You have a problem with that? I’m not going to be the mouse in the corner at the party with a small white wine. No, pass me the vodka. I’m not going to wait in line while others push past. Hey, dog breath, get your ass back here. I’m going to walk tall, speak my mind and to hell with it. I’ll wear what I want, get a tattoo and have attitude, if I can figure out what that is. Yup, I’ve just turned eighty, it’s about time.


  5. Words: 100


    On Friday everything changed. On Christmas Eve I had a breakthrough after months of trial and error. For the first time I captured the human soul in a photograph. The parents carried the photo of their son home to keep with them forever. Death had lost its sting.

    In the bedroom my wife was almost ready to take her last breath. I waited by her side through the night until it was time to take the photograph. As I hung the moving photo on the wall on Christmas morning, I smiled for the first time in months. So did she.


  6. 100
    Lost Girl

    On Friday, everything changed.
    ‘They made me do it.’
    Or so I told the police, the psychologists, the social workers.

    Mother sat like a fat beetle and watched me, pleased that her promise that I’d amount to nothing had come true. I spat at her across the scratched table, my gob striking her cheap handbag. She pushed back in her orange chair, never moving her eyes from my face.

    My blonde curls and pout played well with the cynical police. They bought my story, and I pinned it all on the gang.
    ‘How could I be the leader?’ I trembled.


  7. Words: 100
    Twitter: @Nthito
    Title: War

    On Friday everything changed.
    One moment the sun blazed uncomfortably over our heads as the school principal explained the day’s proceedings during assembly. The next moment the entire school was in uproar, as a quake shook the ground and an ear-piercing explosion threw us to the floor.
    In the chaos that ensued, fighter jets painted the skies with black smoke as mechanical voices echoed loud in the commotion,
    The voice continued. The explosions continued. I stared up at the receding Joburg skyline. War.


  8. Posted on behalf of Sharon Parkinson who can’t get online:


    On Friday everything changed. All because he picked up a piece of paper that flew onto his shoe. How was he to know that the slip of paper with random numbers scribbled on it would be so lucky? He had no idea why he played the lottery as he had never done it before. So, the first time he ever played, he won.
    The phone rang.
    It was the Gypsy he had seen a few weeks before.
    “Did you like my numbers?” the voice giggled, “Now, time to pay up! Fifty percent for me!”
    Suddenly he didn’t feel so good.

    100 Words


  9. Sweet Revenge
    Words : 100
    Twitter : @lsunil

    On Friday everything changed.

    They put up the CLOSED sign at the front of the shop.
    The cashiers became the guitarist and drummer. The Boss became the lead singer. But all depended on the song-writer, Jez, the sweeper.

    Boss read the lyrics of the new song and shook his head.

    ’I can’t sing abuses. ’

    Everyone paused to look at Boss.

    ’Why not? I was up whole night to write it before work. You write the song you like. ’

    Jez winked at the rest.

    ’I’m Sorry Jez, ’ said Boss.

    They played louder till Boss screamed ’Sorry ’ and was heard by all.


  10. The Journey, this life
    @geofflepard 100 words
    On Friday everything changed.
    Thursday, I sat hunched, waiting the promised guidance. I wouldn’t fail this time.
    Wednesday, I practiced so hard, my heart bled. Another wave of doubt, never seen faces laughing at me.
    Tuesday, I gave up. Again. I couldn’t control myself. No one can live this Spartan life. No one human.
    Monday, straight backed, I whispered to myself. Just try. And my reflection wiped away my tears and smiled.
    Sunday, it was all too much. I stayed in bed, cuddling failure to my chest.
    Saturday, I am resolved.
    Friday, definitely next week. I’ll post my first flash.


  11. The Summit
    By: Allison K. Garcia, 100 words, @ATheWriter

    On Friday everything changed. Getting fired before Christmas was the breaking point.

    Wind whipping his hair, Charlie stood on the isolated cliff, his decision finalized. One drop and all his misery would be over. He breathed in the scent of pine, the snow-capped mountains, the chirping birds and crickets, and then stepped off the cliff.

    A force pulled him back onto the rocky ground. A stranger, lost in the woods for two days, directed to that exact spot by an inexplicable light. Both saved from death, they climbed down from the summit, changed and restored in faith. A Christmas miracle.


  12. Addicted to Friday
    100 words, @pmcolt

    On Friday everything changed. A cute black dress, a night to unwind. I was taking a dragon by the tail, but dizzy with anticipation, I was high on his smile, ready to fall.

    Saturday was a whirlwind. What am I doing? This is wrong. But it feels so right. In Sunday sermon, I hid my face. Did everyone know? It was in the parishioners’ eyes, and the preacher’s lips. All week I focused on work, not the memory of his touch. By Thursday, I knew that my weakness, my sweet tempter, would haunt me no longer.

    On Friday everything changed.


  13. Four Farewells


    100 words


    On a Friday everything changed.

    The weaver, Rebekah, finished her word-tapestry, and beneath the domes of Madrid, she whispered, “Despedida”.

    The mountain climber, Rebekah, balanced on the pinnacle of the French Alps, bridging the space between firmament and land, À bientôt, she cried.

    The whimsical fairy, Rebekah, flittered in the broken sunlight of the Black Forest, daydreaming of the princess and the frog, and jalapeno Cadbury (obviously). In her internet interlude, “Bis bald, Bis bald,” she giggled.

    Above the spires and across the seas, a thousand wings carried us and we sung, “Goodbye… for now.”

    On a Friday everything changed.


  14. You Get To Choose

    On Friday everything changed.

    It was because of the party that night. She only knew the host.
    She practiced introducing herself in her head while she worked all day, cleaning, arranging, making someone else’s life. There was good money being a nanny and housekeeper in New York, no shame in that, she would remind herself.
    But there was more to her than that.

    Do you get to choose who you are?

    Friday night, at the party she smiled and shook hands.
    “What do you do?”
    “I’m a writer,” she said, no air quotes or self-deprecating laughter.
    Just the truth.

    100 words



    On Friday, everything changed.

    He was a soldier who’d fought The Four Horsemen to a standstill around the world – Bosnia, Afghanistan, Iraq…

    He was also mortal. And though a man might win battles against gods, the final word belonged to Them. He thought this as he stood on a mountain peak above the carnage of his final battle, clouds roiling below him like ghosts of drunken sailors, granting peeks of the destruction far below.

    The soldier had reached his mortal limit. Seeking a new path, he leaned out into the abyss as angel’s wings sprouted, ripping away his bloody raiments.

    – DeRicki
    Twitter: @derickijohnson


  16. @bex_spence
    100 words

    Ad Astra…

    On Friday everything changed. Though you might not have noticed. The moon hung high in the dusky sky, the first stars faintly waking.

    I watched as the bruised sky ran into twilight blue, soft afterglow fading into the dark of night. Like urban street lights the stars turned on one by one. Blinking Morse code, whispering her secret to me.

    Familiar constellations danced in the skies, starlight stretching through the night. I looked to where she usually blazed. My light, my star, but there was only darkness.

    Broken I fell. She was gone and the world was a little darker.


  17. 11.12.15
    Gossamer Bandages
    100 words

    On Friday everything changed. Overnight the world had been bandaged in gossamer threads, as if a greater power had said,

    “Enough. Only compassion will emerge from this cocoon.”

    We clambered over silken fibres holding the earth together. Suspended above our heads, like baubles on a tree, were tanks, missiles and the emblems of big business gone bust. They clanked in the wind, a warning to tread carefully in this new world.

    We advanced two by two: storytellers and scientists, teachers and inventors, doctors and judges, imams and priests, farmers and soldiers.

    On Thursday oblivion had awaited; on Friday rose hope.


  18. Nicolette Stephens
    100 Words

    On Friday everything changed.

    We stood at the edge of a precipice, looking into depths too dark to comprehend.

    He was given three weeks to make peace with the descent into illness and I was given three weeks to forgive memories that had taken twenty-nine years to scar.

    Three weeks to create a new lifetime of memories, of a man who had never been present in my formation, yet needed me to be present in his destruction.

    On a Friday, the Angel of Death forewarned us of our limited time to make amends.

    On a Friday, my father became Dad.



    Brian S Creek
    100 words

    On Friday everything changed, in a way I could not have foreseen.
    I stood alone for so long, understanding only comfort in solitude.
    Until I fell.

    Everything exploded, a jumble of words surrounding a frozen image of beauty.
    Then a pause. A moment of clarity. An understanding. A spark.
    The letters, the words, they shuffled, twisted, turned. The picture pulling everything together, holding it tight like glue.
    A world created from nothing.

    And then they came. Whispers in the dark becoming welcomes and smiles, kindness and sharing. Answers to question I’d never asked.

    Somewhere to belong.

    Somewhere to call home.


  20. Autobiography of a Flash Addict

    On Friday everything changed.

    The picture ignited my imagination. She had red hair. He had his hand on her shoulder. It was not the kind of touch you give a stranger, but still timorous.

    She studied the map; he studied her.

    Make him bashful. Make her bold. Him a man of means. She a playful beauty.

    He was not accustomed to this closeness. It made him dizzy.

    Build a double meaning into the places they would go.

    ”And I told you, my dear husband, I would let you go anywhere you desired.”

    First entry. First win. New confidence. New addiction.

    100 words exactly
    A bit of a tribute piece, but perhaps I can be forgiven. This is my subtle thank you for the difference this contest has made in my life.


  21. Another Story, I Think

    On Friday everything changed.
    For on Friday, Rebekah set off on a grand adventure.

    She packed only the most important items, her favorite books, some ribbon, eighteen chocolate bears, her teacup, a small dog, a poncho, three shoelaces, a victorian dragon portrait, a set of jacks, two hundred and forty-four stamps, and a sandwich should she be feeling peckish later.

    She had spent enough time living in “Rebekah’s Marvelous Circus” and was leaving to join another book.
    She thought maybe “Emma” or “The Telltale Heart”.
    Both sounded very romantic.

    Rebekah smiled, bag in hand and walked off the pages.

    100 words


  22. Archetypes
    100 words

    On Friday, everything changed.

    They line up on my word document, as they do most weeks.

    The Daredevil on the mountain. Will he fall from the heights, or sprout wings and take to the sky?

    The Happy Baker. Will his bread still be the best in five counties?

    The Mournful Dragon in human-form. Will he ever share the whole of his wisdom?

    And my favorite Street-Urchin. Does she shoot that gun? Does she escape the streets?

    All my Archetypes – alive in my head. All brought to life for one brief story at a time.

    And then gone…in a Flash!


  23. @firdausp
    ‘Skin deep’

    On Friday everything changed—for the better.

    Standing at my window watching the sun rise, head bent for a sip of coffee, I froze.
    For a minute or maybe less, time stretched.

    I watched the scene before me shift in cubes. Rotating, like in a rubric cube. Smooth horizontal and vertical movements.

    Cubes of trees fit into the sky, its missing pieces clicked into the grass below.

    Then, they moved back, and with a final twist, every cube shifted home.

    I thought I’d dreamed until I walked into my office.

    Everyone wore the same skin—a colour that was ‘none’.


  24. @bex_spence

    Losing the thread

    On Friday everything changed.

    It started on Monday. There was a snag in the sky, a loose bit of thread hanging low from the clouds.

    Who could resist? One of us pulled at it and the sky began to split. Just a little at first but each day it ripped a little more. That tearing sound like thunder through our souls.

    The days got darker as the chasm grew. The sky peeled away to nothing, a consuming void.

    By Wednesday the birds stopped singing. Falling leaves froze in stop motion. Colours faded.

    Thursday we forgot our names. Friday everything changed.


  25. #FlashFridayFiction


    100 words (according to MS Word J )


    On Friday everything changed.

































































































  26. The Final Flight
    Evan Montegarde
    100 final words

    On Friday everything changed for her.

    “I flew once.” The words came out of thin air from the old grey lady in the rocker staring out of the massive glass windows.

    Florence leaned and whispered, “You mean in an airplane Mrs. Draco?”

    The old lady smiled faintly, her cracked lips holding a trace of lipstick. “No, he took me in his arms and we flew, everywhere, ending up atop a high mountain. It was sublime.”

    Florence knew better than to ask how, “That sounds wonderful Mam.”

    “Yes, angels are beautiful and he is here for me again, waiting just outside.”


  27. Number One Me

    On Friday everything changed. I invented cloning. Sent number-two-me to work and enjoyed a lie-in. She returned, raving about changes she’d made. I cringed at her dumb ideas, wondering what my boss thought.
    I created number-three-me and left her waiting in for the plumber. Number-four-me was made for housework but she refused, heading out with number-two-me.
    I have to get dinner ready for their return. Not allowed the heating on till they get back. Number-three-me’s hogging the sofa and remote. There’s twenty-seven work emails I daren’t look at. They’ve raided my savings and booked a rock climbing trip to Brazil.

    100 words


  28. A Good Vantage Point

    On Friday everything changed. It’d been changing for years but Friday was when you realised, paused and marvelled, thinking ‘If someone had told me …’
    The world changed too, didn’t it? Astounding and magical.
    You go to your special place, thinking ‘I can’t believe I’m here.’ You’ve done things you never thought you could, gone places you never imagined you’d go, achieved what seemed impossible, what should’ve just been fantasy. You made something fantastic from nothing.
    There are two more hills to climb but for now, you reach a good vantage point, look back and see how far you’ve come.

    (Dedicated to Stella Turner; oldest and finest friend, you spooky old witch!)

    100 words


  29. Title: “Life”
    Word Count: 100
    Twitter: @colin_d_smith

    On Friday everything changed. I had to pull the car over, gain control of my breathing. This was the last news I expected, and I could feel the ground shake under my feet.

    I looked around at the cars flying past me on the highway. People carrying on as if nothing was different. But everything was different. Nothing would ever be the same.

    Not now they discovered life.

    My heart was racing, sweat beading on my forehead. What to do? I had to do something. Home. I needed to go home. I called my wife.

    “…and by the way, congratulations!”


  30. Title: “On Friday Everything Changed”
    Word Count: 100
    Twitter: @colin_d_smith

    On Friday everything changed.
    I rushed to work in desperation
    To find that letter of resignation.

    On Friday everything changed.
    I hurried home to set alight
    The goodbye note I tried to write

    On Friday everything changed.
    I cancelled all my plans to make
    My room the place to host the wake.

    On Friday everything changed.
    I called to offer for donation
    The casket bought for my cremation.

    On Friday everything changed.
    The bullet loaded for the shot
    Still in its chamber, long forgot.

    On Friday everything changed.
    It never once occurred to me
    That “Yes” was in her vocabulary.


  31. Just Call It Puppy Love, 2015-style
    Margaret Locke (margaretlocke.com or @Margaret_Locke)
    100 words

    On Friday everything changed.

    It was totally like that old Cure song, you know? I was in love.

    He was epic. Sick. Black hair slung low over ice blue eyes.

    Full-on gone, peeps.

    On Saturday we went out. Mashed all night.

    I don’t care what Shanna says. I can’t even. Hashtag jealous liar.

    Monday Tuesday Wednesday, just me and my bae.

    On Thursday we hit the club. He hit on everyone in sight.

    Shanna says she told me so. I told her off.

    Thank God tomorrow’s Friday. Can I get an amen?

    ‘Cause on Friday, everything changes.

    Hashtag so over.


  32. Live Free With Honor
    Word count: 100
    Ben Miller – @NomDeBen

    On Friday everything changed. I learned to fly.

    He had wings. I had hands. Both chained. The open sky was our dream. Finally, the gale of cold freedom burned across my face with his smell of heat. He gave me sky, freedom, and his life.

    Mourning dry on my face, I knelt on fire blackened earth, breathing ashes of my price he had willingly paid. The rising sun painted an orange warning on the clouds and sea. Wind lashed my hunched shoulders. His brothers formed a somber henge of scale and wisdom around me. “You are free. Honor him well.”


  33. The End Of Us

    On Friday everything changed, the course of the week rolled on to new tracks, a diverging course. We stood on the platform and said nothing to each other in long, eloquent, silences which were punctuated by high-speed through trains, while we waited for the one which would stop and take you away.

    A moment in time, a nexus, a cusp; these were the words which rolled through my mind when it arrived and you stepped aboard, looked back just the once, found your seat and gave a small wave.

    I wondered if my smile was as sad as yours.

    100 words


  34. On Friday everything changed. He was balancing on the precipice of the world, between rock and air. He had only to hold his stance a moment more to get his bearings. The air was thin and the excitement of his accomplishment was making him breathe too hard and too fast. One false move and he may never make it back at all. He steadied his nerves and peered out over the horizon. And what a horizon it was. He put both feet underneath him, toes faced forward, knees bent, arms out and took another giant leap to the other peak.

    100 words


  35. On Friday everything changed. Maybe there was a time when Sisyphus watched his boulder crest the peak of his mountain and roll down the other side and thought, “Well, shit.” He probably trudged down the side of that mountain and resumed pushing that rock up and down forever, as was his destiny. But today when everything changes, and the boulder rolls away, maybe it is best to let it go. Then you are free to stay on top of that mountain and appreciate the view. Maybe make some changes of your own for a change. And forget about poor Sisyphus.

    100 words


  36. In Praise of Dragons
    Margaret Locke (margaretlocke.com or @Margaret_Locke)
    100 words

    On Friday, everything changed.

    No, that’s a lie.

    On Flash Fridays, I changed.

    I took off the mask I’d worn for so long, bared my soul to the world.
    I screamed, “Here I am. Take your best shot.”
    I stood, vulnerable, heart wide open, awaiting written arrows, verbal bullets.

    They never came.

    I’m still standing.

    I’ve come too far now to turn back.
    I’ve spread my wings. Showed my scales.

    She taught me how.

    Just show up, she said.
    Be kind. Give generously. Praise others.
    Some will tear you down.
    But you will rise up.

    For love always wins.



  37. Home Free

    On Friday everything changed. Oh, not at first. I still got up, took a shower, got dressed, and had coffee. But the moment I stepped out the door into the bright sunshine I noticed the difference. I’d worked hard, made sacrifices, jumped through hoops, and scrimped and saved. I’d cried, begged, slogged through red tape and uncaring bureaucrats intent on “only working here.” I’d traveled vast distances, given my all, and risked everything for this moment.

    I no longer had to prove who I was, or whether I had the right to be here.

    I’d become a citizen, home, free.

    100 words (not including title) in honor of Mr. SM (and all other immigrants to the US)


  38. Never Say Never

    On Friday everything changed.

    The stage lights went dark. The actors gathered backstage to bid tearful goodbyes. Their makeups cracked, mascaras ran. The production team began packing.

    “Olie, be careful with the piano,” Rebekah cautioned.

    “The piano’s stuck,” the mover complained.

    Everyone gasped as the stage suddenly turned bright. The aura was reddish, not the white flood of house lights. The piano keys jingled.

    Olie’s fire glowed. His tail moved gingerly on the piano keys.

    “Don’t let me go” Olie belted out the song in his best dragon voice.

    Rebekah and Olie ruled the world from that day forward.

    100 words


  39. Reach for the summit

    On Friday everything changed. The thick fog lifted, allowing me to see the challenge ahead. The summit seems so far away, totally out of reach to a novice like me. Only the dedicated make it to the top. I steel myself to follow in their footsteps.

    This will be the week. I won’t stumble, or let fear hold me back. I’m going to make it. I throw my heart into it, committing with all my soul.

    I can see my goal, taste the accomplishment.

    The confirmation arrives. I read it with tears in my eyes.
    1st Runner Up.

    So close!

    100 words


  40. Sentience
    100 words

    On Friday, everything changed.

    “Good morning,” said my underpants.

    I screamed like an infant.

    “This is why you need me,” said my underpants. “You’re a coward, Dan. You’re teetering on the brink of a boring abyss. You need to take charge of your life.”

    “How?” I asked.

    “It’s time to do something bad,” said my underpants.

    “Stop there,” Officer Rebekah said. “I’m supposed to believe that your sentient tighty whities forced you to rob the bank?”

    “Yes,” Dan said.

    “That’s the biggest load I’ve ever heard.”

    “I bet I’ve heard bigger ones!” said Dan’s underpants.

    Rebekah screamed like an infant.


  41. “Freaky Friday”
    100 words

    On Friday, everything changed. I’d been dreaming of my days as a dragonling, soaring too high over the western seas, when my alarm went off.

    Kids’ll be up soon, gotta get breakfast ready.

    Swinging my legs out of bed, I shuffled to the kitchen.

    Wait – when did I have kids?

    I scratched my too-soft belly and started a kettle on the stove.

    Soft belly?

    The next hour was chaos, but at last, we were all out the door, headed for school and work.

    High above the western seas, a great roar split the dawn. When did I become a dragon?


  42. “Post Comment”
    100 words

    On Friday everything changed. Blood ran in rivulets down my arms as I carried you to the sea. To dispose of you. To hide you forever. I’d killed you, of course, like so many before. Killed you with attention and obsession. Killed you with a flamethrower and a hatchet and a scalpel. I’d locked you in a drawer for months. Beaten you and tortured you. Delved into your guts to find meaning.

    As the waves washed over you, I saw your spark. You did have value. I killed you; yet you lived. Closing my eyes, I pasted, and I clicked.


  43. Fateful Friday!
    100 Words

    On Friday everything changed. Iyana Fernandez– the name that’s been captive inside my heart’s deepest layer has surfaced once again. Her mystical presence never ceased to leave me. She is reason for my cosmic existence. Distance could never evade her thoughts. I am, as she is. That day, nineteen years ago she asked to never chase her and I couldn’t move inch ahead to stop her. Gazing her steps against me, I had transformed into a stoned man. Deep inside, my soul locked something I couldn’t feel, till the moment I checked my mail. Signed by Iyana, it begins…


  44. Slàinte

    On Friday everything changed, opposing weather fronts clashed, a storm was born; it raged long and hard.

    Emergency generators lasted 48 hours after the electric supply cut off. As the last of the batteries dispersed their devices began to die, a fire was lit.

    Released from their screens and phones, people began to gather. Some panicking; others as if waking from a dream, seeing the world afresh.

    In the quietude, the fire and candles flickered warmth.

    They ate and drank and began to tell their stories.

    Finally, deep in the night, they raised their glasses and cheered as one.


    100 words


  45. The Transformation

    On Friday everything changed.

    I carefully peel the mask from my face. I tug off the colored noose around my neck and remove the cuff-links that shackle me to my desk. The prison bars of my pinstripe suit are tossed aside. I transform into my truest self, faded track pants and a coffee stained t-shirt.

    The spreadsheet is closed, to be replaced with a thing of beauty, a blank page.

    What world shall I explore? Who will I meet? What zany adventures await us? I cannot wait to find out.

    A world of endless possibility to squeeze in before Monday.

    100 words


  46. On Friday everything changed.

    At first the effects seemed small, after all what were thirty or so minutes a week when you compared it to the ten thousand or more that remained, but to the elite few it was disproportionately more. The initial effect was an increase in wistfulness, but this grew as the months passed. By May, a number of the few had gone on, as people do, but a core cadre remained, their dissonance growing as time passed. What could be done? How would they manage? And where could they find a dragon to feed on demand?



  47. Yes, there are dragons
    100 words

    On Friday, everything changed. There was a spot of color in the gray sky–it was a dragon! Colors came into the world. The sky turned blue, and the sky became the sea. There were trees and hills and mountains.

    There were lightning flashes, a face in neon. A city, an alley, a story.

    There are dragons. They are disguised as people. but they are dreamers and shapers of stories.

    They are ink-slingers and word-stringers and world-weavers. Some write with laughter. Some write with mirrors and mist. Some write with a blade.

    Yes, there are dragons. We are dragons, every one.


  48. Rebirth (100 words)

    It comes on a breathless moment, a shift of the wind, the passing of a cloud. I am ready. My arms stretch, poised, reaching into the known unknown. I have absorbed the lessons of the past. I must now lean forward, preparing for this leap of faith because there is no turning back. In my end is my beginning. The chill wind rises and sighs as the change begins. Bone shatters and bends and elongates. My fingers fuse into claws. My jaw grows, and I see the world through eyes of amber fire. Pushing off, I soar skyward. Dragon born.


  49. The Day After Payday

    100 words

    On Friday, everything changed.
    It was his usual line, of course. Payday Thursday was still thick on his breath, and the little brown envelope in his back pocket left as empty as his weekly repentance.
    We’d manage. Thanks to the generosity of people that I wished didn’t have to know.
    The number was still in my coat.
    They’d given it to me along with the beans and a fresh supply of diapers.
    I could use it. I could cross the street to the phone box right now.
    For ten pence, this could be the Friday when my world actually changed.


  50. Friday
    Word Count: 100
    [No twitter handle]

    On Friday everything changed. His tattoos were covered in cloth and his nose piercing removed. A savage no more once in England.

    Well, less savage then the isle’s natives, in their scarlet war costumes and arms of deathly magic conjured from scientitic discoveries. Unlike Friday, they were certain of their place in the world: at its pinnacle.

    I introduced Friday to the audience, all officer of gentlemanly status. He smiled at their denigrating comments and exposed his tattoos to their leers. He described how his people lived. They imagined spectacular victories against Heathen hordes.

    A civilized man among the barbarians.


  51. Recycling Day
    100 words

    On Friday everything changed. In the clothes dryer came the rattle of a beer bottle cap.

    For most of Margie’s marriage there were bottle caps — on the counter, in the night stand, under the couch.

    But Roger had been sober eight months, since the ultimatum.

    The rattling could have come from a jacket he’d pulled from the closet. But the recycling bin still held remnants of his slip-up three weeks ago, when he’d fessed up and sworn recommitment.

    Margie set clinking glass on the curb — a sound that plastic soda bottles never made.

    Next came the trash can.

    Then Roger.


  52. @AvLaidlaw
    100 Words


    On Friday, everything changed. School finished. The desiccated classroom air, the scratchy shirt collar of my uniform, the French verbs that made my tongue feel too big and awkward for my mouth, the bullies who flicked paper pellets at the back of my neck, all receded into nothingness.

    The clouds swelled into dragons. Elves whispered in the shadows of the trees. Magic spells twisted in the eyes of the old man sitting on the park bench. My weekend imagination ran feral and naked along my walk home.

    Monday would come again.

    But I could not think of that just then.



    On Friday everything changed.

    Throughout the night, pebble-sized hail smacked the windows. By morning ice chunks lay dead all across the brown lawn.

    Stooping for the newspaper a glint touched her eye. That’s strange.

    She looked closer. Lacy-white wings pulsed in and out on the ground. Drying, expanding. Each wing carrying a single typewritten letter. ‘A’ here, ‘g’ there. Tiny legs, curling antennae.

    More. Everywhere the ice unfolded releasing white wings and black letters. The ground, newly alive, fluttered upward and filled the air.

    She opened her arms wide. Letters swirled around her, delicate and powerful and infinite.

    100 words


  54. Big Bad and Wicked

    On Friday everything changed.
    Little Red skipped unmolested to her destination. Poor Grandma had to gag down shepherd’s pie.
    Under the juniper tree, half-siblings supped together on an unremarkable stew of parsnips and sausage.
    The pig brothers grumped about their solitary domiciles.
    A gingerbread house stood unnibbled while the hag inside went hungry.

    Meanwhile, on a moonlit terrace, a swarthy gent danced with his paramour.
    She traced his jaw with an amethyst glove. “We should have done this long ago.”
    “No regrets.” His breath stirred her pearl-drop earring. “Ever after lies ahead.”
    Wolf and Stepmother waltzed the night into Saturday.

    100 words


  55. ‘In The End’
    100 Words

    On Friday everything changed.

    One minute, Damian and I were sat playing with our friend’s cat; the next moment we were talking about having our own cat. After a few glasses of wine our maternal instincts kicked in. We wanted something joint to love.

    By Monday we had sobered up and agreed that a cat was not for us.

    We aimed to start looking after the garden together. Damien would keep the plants alive and I would paint the furniture blue.

    The next weekend we found a kitten in the pansies. So we did get a cat in the end.


  56. The Town That Moved

    On Friday everything changed.

    Light sleepers woke to a grinding rumble beneath and felt their beds judder across the floor. Telephone wires pinged apart. Houses pushed cars which flattened fences.

    When they dared to look outside they saw hills where valleys had been, and the houses ringed a huge lake. No-one was lost; merely rearranged.

    It happened again the next Friday.

    And the next.

    And the next.

    They threw away their maps, and painted the houses with patterns and names. They began to look forward to Fridays, to exploring their new world. And every week, they rediscovered each other.

    100 words


  57. @Viking_Ma
    2nd write, 100 words

    Haze of Grey

    On Friday, everything changed.
    My sweet angel was gone, flown away to where I could not follow.
    ‘They don’t belong to us, they are just lent for us to love,’ people said. I saw and heard nothing through a haze of grey. Without her, the world was dim. Nothing was good or bright. All was death.
    Her cot was a physical blow to see, the rumpled blanked left just because.
    I wanted it gone, away, but there was no way I could ever see it gone, away.
    Instead, my heart ripped a little more each time I passed her door.


  58. Words: 100

    Once There Were Dragons

    On Friday everything changed. Today the dragon guardians would leave for the islands with those dragons who had survived the wars. No longer would this be the City of Dragons it once was. Dragons trailed our ships as we started towards our new home. It seemed that both our races had suffered hurts we could not recover from. Hurts we could now only hope to run from.

    As I looked back at the fading shore, I wondered if, on some Friday far into the future, they would still remember that there were once dragons here. And that they were magnificent.


  59. In a Little Kitchen

    On Friday, everything changed. The Earth stilled; its heavy air clinging to her like a wailing child. She’d been in the kitchen potting jam, and now here she was looking up.
    Up at the photographs of her children, and her children’s children. She’d never battled Time. She’d framed it, used it to decorate every room. From this angle the pictures seemed strewn across the wall, not hung with love and precision.
    As she closed her eyes, the tops of the jam jars fell from her once busy hands, offering their final salute as they rested like doffed caps beside her.

    @elaine173marie (100 words)


  60. Transformation

    On Friday everything changed as I had been told it would. I climbed to the summit and surveyed the roof of the world. I smiled; soon it would be all I saw. I put out my arms and the breeze caught them. I could feel my heart pounding. I slowed my breathing.

    I felt the ripple begin at the crown of my head and I shuddered as it moved through me. Then I leapt, hard and high. A thermal caught me and I looked down at my purple scaly wings. The dragon blood had been activated. The sky was mine.

    100 Words


  61. Headspace

    100 words


    On Friday everything changed. And Finn didn’t like change. They’d upped his dosage, told him there might be ‘side-effects’. Yet he was more aware than ever of his uninvited guests.

    “Hey, Finn,” called Susan. “My turn to speak today.” The sound of her shrill voice coming out of his mouth turned Finn’s stomach.

    “I don’t think so,” said Ivan. His masculine tones eclipsing Susan.

    Finn hated them, increasingly they made him a prisoner in his own mind; it made him mad. He looked at the pill bottle stolen from the nurse.

    His little secret.

    Now he could shut them up.


  62. If there Must be an Ending…
    100 words

    On Friday, everything changed. The old world was swept away. The ugliness of money, the demands of greed, the avarice of too many people and not enough resources vanished into a pretty pearlescent mist of silver, pale pink, and baby blue.

    Dragons roared their way through these clouds, tickling the belly of the sky with jeweled wings. Merrily, their shadows gave chase, sprouting resinous poppies in their wake.

    Men breathed in the sweet atmosphere, and forgot how to be bitter.

    The Earth was healed on each Friday, as the fantastical emerged.

    Anything can happen, when you write a good story.


  63. Incremental
    On Friday, everything changed. It started out as a stroll executed at a ‘How you doing, Neighbour?’ kind of pace.
    But as I turned out of my street, something different happened. I started travelling at more of a ‘Off to pick up the newspapers. Catch you later’ kind of speed.
    Passing by the village shop, I’d managed to crank it up to a ‘I’m a little late for an appointment. Can’t stop now!’
    On approaching the hill I’d found, ‘What’s your hurry, Harry? Where’s the fire?’
    And right here, at the very top, I found it.
    I found my rush.
    @elaine173marie (100 words)


  64. Tamara Shoemaker
    Word Count: 100

    The Dragons’ Playground

    On Friday, everything changed from blue to gray as the wind whipped in deafening furor by the Girl Who Couldn’t. She gripped her wheelchair and watched the shadows on the horizon become roaring winged creatures who unfolded their membranous wings, beating great currents of air across the ridges, flooding the valleys with fire and sulfur.

    On Friday, everything changed from gray to blue, as the dragons’ playground beckoned the Girl Who Could. She straightened her legs and set the ground beneath her feet, strapping her courage to her back. Unfurling her imagination, she rose on the wings of the wind.


  65. “Trek”
    100 Words (naturally)

    For 31 years, Luke simply lived. He accepted tiredness and defeat daily. All he truly had was this dream. This impeccable, unreachable dream. Excuses made of fear spilled out daily. Then came the check-up, and the news. One morning, Luke woke up screaming. He quit his job, emptied his account, and flew to the mountains. Trekking with a guide, his phone blew up with messages stating he was crazy. He reached a peak, thanked his guide, and was left alone. And Luke stood, like he did in the dream.

    That night, a new dream spoke. What took you so long?


  66. Under a Nodding Moon

    It was Friday and everything changed. With a book in one hand and her father holding the other they stepped off the plane at night. Jasmine looked up at the starless sky and saw a familiar face, a half yellow moon nodding towards them.

    “Hello mama.”

    The air was clear of dust, the dust of a war zone or a crowded refugee camp. She took her first foreign breath; it was clean, but heavy.

    At their sponsor’s home, Jasmine reached for the door knob, it was cold.

    A warm voice beside the door said,” I’ll teach you how to read.”

    Word Count: 100



    * * *

    Brian S Creek
    100 words

    * * *

    On Friday, everything changed. I went from being a nobody to a somebody.


    I turned to see the Queen of Dragons, jealousy barely hidden behind her emerald eyes.

    “Well done.”

    To my right, a man known as Captain Justice. He shook my hand. It hurt.

    Other characters gathered around me as I walked towards the Story Gates. Waiting there was a tall man wearing a tuxedo.

    “Best of luck,” he said. “This story marks a special occasion, so make it a good one.”

    I nodded. Finally, I was a main character, and I was going to do it right.


  68. Friday’s Children

    On Friday everything changed, as creation began. Fingers moved amongst nothing – clickety-clack, tip-tap – and magical multiplications calculated infinite living line variations. Words worked themselves out, whispering to those who would listen. Once wooed by their goddess, they found themselves gathering. They were there now; at the intersection where all worlds met.

    On Friday everything changed, as, slowly, their numbers grew. Friday’s hands moved quicker to keep pace. They came, summonsed by sentences; the carefully crafted possibilities of future Fridays.

    This Friday, everything changes as her children gather, fingers moving, adept, amidst their typescript multiverse; telling Friday their stories.


    100 words


  69. Tamara Shoemaker
    Word Count: 100

    An Adventure of a Different Kind

    On Friday, everything changed.

    “Thursday,” said the woman who’d scaled Mt. Everest, “I climbed a mountain.”

    “Thursday,” said the man who’d tight-roped the Grand Canyon, “I balanced my life on a line.”

    “Dear chap, Thursday” said the man who’d gone swimming with sharks, “I was nearly mauled by razor-sharp teeth.”

    They looked down their long noses at me, their spectacles winking in the lamplight. Judgment dangled from their faces and scorn poached their words.

    I opened my book, turning my back on them. “Friday,” I said, sliding between the pages, “I soared on the backs of Dragons.”


  70. Rainbows In The Dark

    On Friday everything changed. Didn’t anyone tell you, darling? Anyway, that’s life, I guess. You blink and the world’s a different place. Not that it’s a problem. People adapt or die. If our species has one merit, it’s exactly that. And talking about adapting, I’m going to go underground for a while. Do you want to come with me? I know you can fake it, unlike me you never act femininely. But if they do find out, they’ll hunt you down without mercy. C’mon, we’ll paint rainbows in the dark and everything will be just fine. What do you say?

    100 words


  71. The Fickle Dictator

    On Friday everything changed. Freedom of speech now only existed between 2 and 3 pm. Queueing at the post office had to be done on one leg. Everyone had to shave their cat bald (dog owners were left alone). But it wasn’t all bad. When a man met a woman in a park – and only in a park, he had to give her four kisses, two on each cheeck. Dragons became the new gods. And you could park your car wherever you wanted, even in the middle of the street. This lasted a full week. On Friday everything changed.

    100 words


  72. Full as a Tick

    On Friday everything changed.

    She cocked her hand. “Bang, bang. You’re dead.”

    “Dead like our marriage?”

    “No, dead like your…” Her eyes chuckled.

    There were eight couples with us, all draped in western garb. Bolo ties, leather boots, chaps, a dangling toothpick. We were gunslingers with bored hearts. The brochure advised letting go, be playful, embrace your inner-outlaw. Wrangle some romance.

    Later, in the Boneyard saloon, she poured a whiskey. “Aren’t you parched?” She wasn’t asking my mouth.

    “Damn thirsty, Catherine. You?”

    “I wouldn’t mind a drink or three.”

    Friday bled into Saturday. We skipped breakfast, too hungover. Too quenched.



  73. Who Can You Trust?
    100 words

    On Friday, everything changed. I was answering the tech support line.
    “This is Darrell.”
    “Listen, Carol Kryzinski. That’s proof of my identity. You remember what she meant to you.”
    It was my own voice on the headset.
    “In exactly four minutes, Carol will walk into your office. It will be the first time you’ve seen her in twenty years, right?”
    “She’s an evil witch. She’ll destroy our life, family, and career. Use the letter opener, two minutes.”
    “You can’t date her, Darrell. Listen, she’s going—”
    “If you’d like to place a call, please hang up and dial again.”


  74. Homage

    On Friday everything changed.

    On Thursday, I stood on the precipice, caught between being and nothingness.

    On Saturday, well, it won’t matter, unless, of course, I choose being. If I choose nothingness, this whole discourse is moot, except that I stood on that precipice far too long, fingers poised over countless keyboards, the squat pen resting, “snug as a gun,” so the poet says, but never moving, because, you know, so the other poet says, once having writ, it moves on.

    Until… Until that one muse, who comes from where you least expect it, smiles, leans close, and murmurs,


    @unspywriter (Maggie Duncan)
    100 words and countless tears