Caleb Berg

Our August 2023 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #265 (provided by Stone Soup intern Sage Millen), which asked that participants write a story that ended in someone brushing their teeth. Our submitters certainly got creative, with one story ending in a zookeeper brushing a tiger’s teeth, and another ending in a super-powered hamster brushing her teeth after saving a family in Thailand. As always, thank you to all you participated, and please keep submitting next month! In particular, we congratulate our Honorable Mentions, listed below, and our Winners, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners “Déjà Vu” by Isha Bhadauria, 13 “Brushing Teeth: One Small Step for Man, One Giant Leap for Food” by Jayan Byrapuram, 12 “Pink Magic” by Reese Fujikawa, 12 “Super Peaches: Amini’s Rescue” by Greta Garretson, 8 “A Brush with Destiny” by Milly Wang, 10 Honorable Mentions “The House” by Nandan Chazhiyat, 12 “I Broke My Brother” by Kyle Chinchio, 10 “Toothbrush Vs. Candy” by Chloe Lin, 11 “Camping” by Taj Malinis-Jackson, 10 “Click” by Angela Mu, 13 Déjà Vu Isha Bhadauria, 13 Every human knows that at any given day, hour, second, their life could end. However, hardly any human ever really contemplates the prospect of actually dying. Of course, there’s always a few exceptions – a few have scratched the surface of truth; in turn, beginning practices of various religions: Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, and many more. However, the brain of a human is simply incompetent to realize the real. To a human, man is the center of the universe; the smartest being; the only life for many, many miles around. And to every human, there are specific humans that are more important or less important to them than others. They think that what matters to everyone is their love, their friendship, their loss. To someone like me… this is a combination of both hubris and a prodigious lack of brain cells. However, I suppose it’s not really their fault. No human can spend every waking second thinking they may die. They’ll go crazy. A human is given both the gift and the curse of being able to adapt. On the good side, they won’t lose their mind if they know that all day, every day, there’s a possibility of Death, and will get used to it. On the bad side, staying in this inebriated state of thinking everything’s fine makes all humans prone to careless errors, sometimes even resulting in catastrophe. Take Samuel Davis, for example. Being in the military, fighting in what I believe is now World War LVIII, Death is something too close to ignore, but too scary to think about. Even when the bomb hit, his last thoughts were of his favorite people: his mother and father, little sister, friends… Never about me. I had called to him, like I did for many other men lost on the battlefield. He had fought against me, just like everyone else. But somehow, this one seemed… different. I decided to speak to him before sending him away. “Hello, Samuel,” I said nonchalantly as he looked around, bewildered. “Is… Is this heaven?” he panted. Ah. Religion. His file materialized in my hand, and I glanced at the red, bolded letters bearing the word, “CHRISTIAN.” “Is this heaven?” he repeated, grasping my arm. “No, Samuel,” I said firmly, and he released his tight grip, eyes full of worry. “Then am I in…?” “No, Samuel. Not that either.” He frantically checked himself for a pulse, and proceeded to make anxious, squawking noises. I sighed. He wasn’t different from the rest after all. But as I turned, ready to call someone to take him away, he grabbed my arm again. I stared at him, confused. “Where are we?” he pleaded for answers. “You’re in Aleiliae,” I asserted, but then blurted something else out without much thought. “Listen Samuel, I’m going to offer you a choice, as I do for all of my favorite mortals.” He blinked. “Why am I your favorite?” I mentally bashed myself with a club, cursing myself for telling him that as he looked at me like a child given a piece of candy. Since I didn’t want to tell him I was bored of simply collecting and disposing of souls, my response was cloying and syrupy: “Your goodwill is unrivaled, especially in such an important time for humans: World War LVIII.” It seemed to work for him, though. His eyes lit up. “What’s the choice?” “You can stay here with me,” I lied, “or choose to be reborn into a new life. What do Hindus call it… Reincarnation?” “Reborn!” he quickly chose. I breathed a quick sigh of relief as I painted a big, obnoxious smile on my face. This should be adequate entertainment after all, I thought. I hastily opened a portal to the mortal world. “Well, this is it, then. I hope to see you again, Samuel.” He looked at the portal, then rushed toward me and gave me a hug. My jaw clenched and locked in its forced grin, I removed him from me as he thanked me profusely. Samuel waved and stepped into the portal. As soon my face dropped into its usual frown and I closed the swirling vortex, my mouth flipped over once again as I laughed, and laughed, and laughed. The naïvety of a human is truly something. *** At that same time in the human world, a beautiful baby girl was born in France. She was chubby, healthy, and very, very happy. If it weren’t for the visions… Her parents, beaming at the time, had no idea what was coming their daughter’s way. Every night since the day she turned three years old, she began to have the same recurring dream: a man dying from a bomb in war. She’d scream and awaken, but only after she’d see the dying man up close; his uniform splattered with blood, his eyes open but unseeing, his friend shaking him and screaming his name: “Samuel

Our June Flash Contest was based on Prompt #207 (provided by contributor Molly Torinus), which asked that participants write a scene (as a story, a poem, or a play) in which the author met their past or future selves. This prompt, a creative reimagining of the classic “write a letter to your future self,” resonated deeply with our participants as we received over 40 submissions! The participants’ brilliant work ranged from a semi-fictional origin story for the author’s pet guinea pigs to a time-bending competition over the homework of the author’s past, present, and future selves to a heart wrenching letter asking that the author’s future self be kinder to their soon-to-be-dead brother. If I may inject myself into this short summary, in all the time I’ve been judging the Flash Contest—since September 2020—I have never seen such a crop of brilliant writing. It took me over two days to ultimately decide the winners and honorable mentions, of which there are six each—one more than the usual five—and even then two more pieces were selected for the regular and Covid blogs. I distinctly remember being blown away by the quality of writing and artwork the first time I encountered Stone Soup—better and more robust than that of my college peers—and my admiration and awe for you contributors has only increased since I became an employee. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to all who submitted and have submitted their work in the past, and please submit again next month! In particular, we congratulate our Winners and our Honorable Mentions, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners “Have We Met?” by Alia Ashworth, 11 (Thousand Oaks, CA) “The Visitor from the Stars” by Hanbei Bao, 11 (Lakewood, CO) “Homework Thieves” by Wilson Chen, 10 (Portland, OR) “Last Vacation” by Caroline Gao, 11 (Milpitas, CA) “The Interview” by Savarna Yang, 13 (Outram, New Zealand) “Piano Can Transcend Time” by Joycelyn Zhang, 12 (San Diego, CA) Honorable Mentions “Future” by Sophie Li, 11 (Palo Alto, CA) “The Life of a Guinea Pig” by Nova Macknik-Conde, 10 (Brooklyn, NY) “Time’s Reminders” by Audrey Ren, 11 (Linwood, NJ) “Me Too” by Daniel Shorten, 11 (Mallow, Republic of Ireland) “Déjà vu” by Eliana Wang, 13 (Potomac, MD) “A Second Chance” by Hannah Wu, 12 (Washington DC) For the Stone Soup blog “White Lilacs, Purple Lilacs” by Cayleigh Sukhai, 12 (Manitou Beach, Saskatchewan, Canada) For the Stone Soup Covid blog A Strange Dream by Melody You, 11 (Lake Oswego, OR) Alia Ashworth, 11 (Thousand Oaks, CA) Have We Met? Alia Ashworth, 11 I brace myself, expecting something crazy or wild. Nothing happens except the flashing screen of the watch…    You are now entering 2022.    There is a strange feeling of weightlessness, a sense of wild exhilaration, and then my feet land solidly onto a sidewalk overgrown with thorny weeds. I feel the California sun beat down and I exhale in relief.   It works! The time machine ACTUALLY works! My mind races with the implications of this amazing discovery.  I can smell the gas fumes as a car races by, and I am surprised to see a man actually steering the car. I forgot they still steer cars in 2022! So rustic.   I turn to look at my old house. A rush of emotions threatens to overflow as I stare at where I spent most of my childhood.   Suddenly a girl opens the door. Her blond hair is a little longer than shoulder length and her eyes are focused intently on the light blue paperback in her hand. She is completely absorbed in the book and appears not to notice me. The girl is… me.   I look so young… If only I could be that carefree and innocent again. I did feel like I was on top of the world all those years ago, and all I wanted was to grow up so I could look the part. How wrong I was.  I stroll up to her, trying to appear nonchalant.   “Hi,” I smile warmly.  “Hi? Who are you?” Young Alia asks, surprised.  “I’m Al… Alana. I’m from the future,” I burst out. I realize that if I tell Alia my real name, it might ruin the space-time continuum… or something like that.  Alia stares at me like I am crazy and starts slowly backing away.  “I know you… in the future. Your name is Alia. That book you are reading is…” I pause for a moment as I struggle to remember the title, “So You Want To Be a Wizard, if I recall correctly. It is not your favorite book, and you just want to finish it so you can read something else. Am I right?”  Alia’s jaw drops. “How do you know that?”  “I told you! I’m from the future!” I roll my eyes. I don’t remember being so dense.  “Okay… So, do robots take over the world? Who do I marry? Do I marry? Do I have kids? If so, what are their names? OH, OH! What stocks should I invest in? What job do I have? Am I rich? Are my siblings rich? Where do I live? Is it a big house? What college do I go to?” Alia pauses for breath.  Oh, Alia. There is so much you do not know. If only I could tell you. But you will find out in good time, and it is not my place to tell you before it is time.  “I… can’t tell you.”  “What? Why not? I want to know! At least the stocks, please!” Alia is obviously confused.  If I told you the stocks, you’d be so rich. But still I can’t…  “Well… if I told you, things might turn out differently. And then I would cease to exist. That would be sad for me. Actually, I’ve never tried ceasing to exist, but I doubt it would be extremely enjoyable. I just wanted to see if the time machine would work. And now I’m going