Flash Contest

Flash Contest #71, January 2025: Create a story, poem, artwork, or a musical composition based off of the painting “Champs de Mars: The Red Tower” by Robert Delaunay using the ekphrastic method —Our Winners and Their Work

Our January 2025 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #312 (provided by Stone Soup students Emma Hoff), which asked that participants create a story, poem, artwork, or a musical composition based off of the painting “Champs de Mars: The Red Tower” by Robert Delaunay using the ekphrastic method. As always, thank you to all who 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 “Modernism’s Blinding Earthquake” by Gavin Liu, 15 “The Red Tower: When the Old Order Makes Way for the New” by Nathan Qu, 13 “Mr. Eiffel” by Derek Zhang, 11 Honorable Mentions “Through The Eyes Of Time” by Wing Hey Chan, 13 “I Remember” by Isabel Sands, 15 “The City of Gray” by Sydney Kesselheim, 12 Modernism’s Blinding Earthquake Gavin Liu, 15 Leaning city buildings crumple in the tower’s flame. Angels fall — or are they attempting to rise on Jacob’s ladder to evacuate modernism’s earthquake Sky’s gloominess tests angels’ golden wings to avoid fiery-red beams as Delaunay’s frantic mind holds no doubt of what demise modernity will bring— his desperate plea to Parisians to see civility’s tumbling collapse and the Eiffel Tower’s meaning— earth forgotten—unable to withstand the heavy iron, steel, and electric light as nature’s goodwill lags behind modernism’s deception. Nature’s resistance—crackling lightning striking Paris’s elegant tower made red— to unsnare people’s ignorance to instead wake in sun’s golden tower of love. The Red Tower: When the Old Order Makes Way for the New Nathan Qu, 13 Burst of burnished bronze Blasts archaic world order Into smithereens City’s lustrous lights welcome The twentieth century Mr. Eiffel Derek Zhang, 11 The gloomy city shines with light A shiny tower is beheld Emitting light as it’s shown Glowing bright in the sky Clouds of color surround the tower Red veins channel through As the sun shines in envy Drawing people like mosquitoes Symphony of awes heard from miles The soul of the Eiffel looks in pride The only star in the gray As time slowly grinds by The Eiffel tower stands still Breathing fresh air all it does The whisper of winds passes by People come to see the top The same their forebears had Years of respect has gone by Other places have gathered fame But the Eiffel still dominates Crowned the king of the sky Always to be remembered in the mind

Flash Contest #70, December 2024: Write a short story from a blizzard’s perspective, a poem on your favorite part of winter, or create an artwork showing light and darkness —Our Winners and Their Work

Our December 2024 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #311 (provided by Stone Soup students Sage Millen, Meleah Goldman, and Emma Hoff), which asked that participants write a short story from a blizzard’s perspective, a poem on your favorite part of winter, or create an artwork that shows light and darkness As always, thank you to all who 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 “Snowflake” by Scarlett Yi, 13 “Snowflakes: A Winter’s Tanka Poem” by Matthew Zhang, 13 “From the life we left” by Dara Jin, 11 “Waiting” by John Gabriel Sperl, 12 “Snowflake Light” by Tang Li, 12 Honorable Mentions “The Wonders of Winter” by Evee Dev, 9 “BLIZZARD” by Julian Yang, 10 “My View” by Sharbani Datta, 10 “Winter’s Breath” Haoran Yang, 11 “A New December Day: A Shakespearean Sonnet ” by Erica Zhan, 12 Snowflake Scarlett Yi, 13 Winter is a great time to have your heart leave you tofeel your ears redden with fire andBe consumed by direSpeed I zoomAcross a field ofHardened glinting crystalsEach one with a bitterly cold tasteAnd then Fall andFly,FasterThanBliss And     You        Can’t Miss this feeling Snowflakes: A Winter’s Tanka Poem Matthew Zhang, 13 Billions of smallDancers, twirling in the skyFalling slowly downOne flake after anotherOne flake after another From the Life We Left Dara Jin, 11 Wintry trees on a lonely laneMoonlight shines on the frostLonesome flakes of snowDrop onto the deep wide planeThe meadows bright under the moonlightwhat once was gold is now whiteTree roots deep in the groundUntouchedUnblemished By the deep deep coldLife disappearsone by oneinto the lonesome cavernof their homethe only life in sightis single haresnow white against the backgroundwaiting for springthe once burbling rivernow silencedby the murderous icethe pine trees shagged thricesleeves of frostand robes of snowmake winter forthIn the bright of the moonglittering in maliceunblemisheduntouched Hundreds of miles awaya church bell tollsmidnightin the middle of nowhereAn owl takes flightthe natural winter wonderlandof snow and ice flourishing and beautiful unblemisheduntouched By man made designtrees swaying in the howling windsnow stubbornly holding onto lifeBaubles of snow, of icicles, floating in the airFrozen lakes, in the movement of nothingunderneath is a world of wonderPowdery snowglistening whiteslowly fallingfrom the perch in the skyinto the wildernessUntouchedunblemishedNature recuperates from harm. Waiting John Gabriel Sperl, 12 My favorite partof this chilly time,is known to manyas something cherished and loved. But for me,living in the land of lost hills,it’s a rarity,a squandered treasure. The silky sheetsof white galore,covering everythingin beauty incarnate. But now I watchthrough the window,and see nothing buta sad tomorrow. For the glassy brilliancethat so blessed the grass,now lays waitingup in the sky. Snowflake Light Tang Li, 12

Flash Contest #69, November 2024: Write a short story, poem, or create an artwork that tells a fairytale from the perspective of a secondary character—Our Winners and Their Work

Our November 2024 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #310 (provided by Stone Soup students Sage Millen, Meleah Goldman, and Emma Hoff), which asked that participants write a short story, poem, or create an artwork that tells a fairytale from the perspective of a secondary character As always, thank you to all who 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 “The Wolf’s Side of the Story” by Isabella Fu, 13 “The Diary of Mrs Fitzgerald, Cinderella’s Stepmother” by Keziah Khoo, 11 “The Seven Dwarfs and Snow White” by Arshia, 15 “Home of Nature” by Shixi Wu, 8 “The White Rabbit’s New Life” by Tang Li, 12 Honorable Mentions “Little Red Riding Snack” by Lucia Tang, 12 “Through the Wolf’s Eyes” by Ethan Chen, 13 “True Tale of The Three Billy Goats Gruff” by Lydia Chen, 10 “Little Red Riding Hood: Wolf’s Plan” by Nidhi Gudigantala, 11 “Snow White” by Minakshi (Mina) Codyraman, 12 “A Candle’s Point Of View” by Silvia Anita Visoiu, 10 “The Doe and Baby Bear” by Jiya Parekh, 10 The Wolf’s Side of the Story ISABELLA FU, 13 It’s a chilly morning in the forest. The birds nestle up together in the shadows of the trees. The squirrels tuck away in the tree hollows, their tails shielding them from the cold. Meanwhile, us big ones don’t get any warmth, no matter how much we call. We’re silenced. Expected to thrive off of a few prey. Categorized as big, bad, and cunning meanies. All when we wolves are simply trying to live, just like the others. But I know I can’t just stay in one spot. I have to get moving. Hunger gnaws at me as I wander the woods. I desperately need somewhere to stay and something to eat. After a long while, I stumble upon a little pig’s house made of straw. When I catch sight of a welcoming fire burning inside, hope flickers in my chest. I knock gently. “Please,” I beg. “I’m cold, and I haven’t eaten in days. Could you spare a place by your fire?” After a few seconds, the door creaks open, just enough for the pig’s snout to peek through. He narrows his eyes. “You must be lying,” he says with a sneer. “I’m no fool. So just stop already, you scary wolf!” Suddenly, a gust of wind rushes through the air, carrying dust from the straw to my nose. I sneeze, causing the walls to immediately collapse and the fire to die away. The pig squeals and bolts, leaving me with the wreckage at my feet. Guilt forms up inside me, and it outweighs my hunger. I decide to follow the pig’s tracks and do my best to apologize. To my surprise, the path leads to another pig’s house built of sticks. It’s eerily getting darker, so I try speaking again to hopefully find a place to stay for the night. “Please,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I don’t mean harm. I just need rest.” The second pig appears in his doorway, looking me up and down. “Sorry, but I can’t trust you. My brother told me everything. Everyone knows what wolves are like.” He shuts his door before I get the chance to say otherwise. Then, another sneeze overtakes me. I can’t resist; the smell of the sticks is too strong. The sticks topple to the ground and the pig runs off, screaming. I follow him, yearning for sympathy. By the time I arrive at the third pig’s house, I’m practically hopeless. If snow starts to fall soon, I’d be doomed. The house is made of bricks, sturdy and well-constructed. Maybe here, someone would listen. I needed someone to listen. “Please,” I beg, scratching at the door. “I’m not the monster you think I am. I just need help!” The third pig laughs from inside. “Go on formulating your little schemes. My house is so robust, I literally have trouble hearing you right now.” I huff—not in anger, but in frustration, trying to explain myself. The pigs had falsely assumed my intentions. Their laughter rang from the safety of the bricks, and I knew by that point I was alone. Every single animal was cozied up in a loving home, while I appeared as an enigmatic outcast. Us wolves are always portrayed as evil creatures. Not a single story casts us as heroes. Not one. They say I’m the big, bad wolf, but they never asked who I really was. If they had, they might have seen the truth. I was just a creature in need of a little to eat, while being indicated as an intimidating predator. I was just a creature in need of warmth, while being described as a deliberate destroyer of many homes. I was just a creature in need, while being depicted as a malevolent monster in their tale. I was just a creature in need. The Diary of Mrs Fitzgerald, Cinderella’s Stepmother KEZIAH KHOO, 11 13 January 1852, 6 pm. That Cinderella forgot to dust under the cabinet again. I already warned that scatterbrained lass not to forget, but she is simply indolent. I have done so much for her, taking her into this grand mansion, giving her the charity of two small meals a day and a straw bed. And yet she is too kind— so kind she makes Charmaine and Gertrude, my two dear daughters, seem dreadfully unkind as a result, though they only punish her if she forgets to do something on the six-yard list of chores, or touch their things. She also dresses too fancy. She wears a good, serviceable grey dress with only thirteen large patches — to think she had the nerve to ask me for a new one yesterday— and a pinafore. Why, if I were her— though of course I would never be so dreadfully indolent— I would be contented with a shabby frock.