Flash Contest

Our March 2023 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #244 (provided by Stone Soup intern Sage Millen), which asked that participants write a fairy tale with a twist: the princess had to be the villain. With such a fascinating prompt, it’s no wonder we got over 40 submissions! Among those 4o+ submissions were a story about a tiger-poaching princess, a story about a space princess, a story about a princess willing to blow up her betrothed, and a story about dueling Disney princesses. As always, thank you to all you participated, and please keep submitting next month! In particular, we congratulate our Winners and our Honorable Mentions, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners “Birthright” by Asha Akkinepally, 12 “Her Carmine Eyes” by Eiaa Dev, 13 “Princess Preservation” by Rhea Kachroo, 12 “The Sun Shines Again” by Pranjoli Sadhukha, 13 “The Princess’s Tiger” by Melody You, 12 Honorable Mentions “The Princess Who Didn’t Want to Marry” by Isabella Bhagwandin, 12 “A Land Frozen in Time” by Aaron Duan, 12 “Within the Tower Walls” by Juwon Ha, 11 “Warrior Princess” by Kaia Lee, 9 “Damsel of Distress” by Emily Tang, 13 Birthright Asha Akkinepally, 12 He lay on the hard, cold floor. He led his sister to the dance floor. His clothes were ragged and overlarge. His clothes were perfectly tailored and brand-new. The ceiling dripped with a reeking, unidentifiable liquid. The ceiling was hung with glowing chandeliers. He winced as someone cried in pain. He laughed as his sister twirled around. Someone shoved a tray of stale bread and unripe pear at him. The table was set with a feast of the finest culinary delights. He raised a tin water cup to his lips. The king drank from a crystal wine goblet. He coughed, sputtering at the foul taste. The king let out a strangled cry as his eyes rolled back and his throat turned blue. With a final scream the ruler collap— He closed his eyes. He did not want to relive those moments–those moments when his father died. Those moments that cruelly threw him into this prison, stripping him, too, of his life. Of all he had ever known. Honestly, he wasn’t sure who had it worse. His father’s passing was supposed to be his rebirth. He was supposed to be in the palace, preparing for his coronation. Instead, he was in the kingdom’s most infamous prison, sharing air with its most infamous criminals. “Get up,” a guard barked. All the deference he had once commanded had vanished, replaced by an almost inhumanity. “You have a visitor.” He rose to his feet, blinking matted hair out of his eyes. Only one person remained from his old life—one person believing his innocence, that he did not poison the king, that he did not wish the worst for his own father. A girl entered into his line of sight then, looking out of place in the damp, dark prison, with her layers of tulle and glittering tiara. “Leave us,” she commanded the guards. “But, Your Highness—” She threw them an imposing glare. “I said leave us.” They scurried off, and he had never felt more grateful to his sister. She looked him up and down, examining his wretched state. He expected her to exclaim at how they were treating him, to demand reprisal from the injustice, but instead—“You are rather disappointing.” He recoiled. “Excuse me?” She eyed him disgustedly. “Look at you, reduced to this pathetic mess.” What was wrong with her? “Pathetic? The throne is my birthright! I’ve been working my whole life for it, and it’s wrested from my grip just as I am finally about to taste it! Of course I’m going—” “It’s your birthright,” she repeated softly. “Yes. You did nothing more than exist and the throne was yours.” She advanced closer. “Do you know what you are right now? Useless. Do you know what I’ve been my whole life? Even though I am, by far, the more deserving between us? Even though I am the one who knows our exports and imports by heart, who is fluent in 10 languages, who memorized all the foreign ambassadors’ names?” They were inches apart, and there was a rage simmering in her gaze that he had never seen before. “Useless.” His world was dying more and more with every drop of venom she infused her words with. Or perhaps he was dying—he felt little more than an empty vessel at the moment. She stepped back, smoothing her gown and her expression. “Until now. I’ve always been an excellent multitasker.” Realization dawned. “You killed Father! You framed me!” He was filled with an emotion he’d never experienced before. How could his sister do this? When had she planned it? “All so you could have the crown!” She tsked softly. “Unfair, isn’t it?” She laughed. “I know the feeling. In my experience, when a game’s unfair,” she said, smiling callously, “you change the rules.” She sauntered out. “Never trust anyone, dear brother. Especially your own family.” It was the last thing she ever said to him. The guards scampered back in, and he had never felt more hateful to his sister. He fell back to the floor. His threadbare clothes spread around him. Wet splattered on his face. Someone moaned in agony. The bread and pear nearly broke his teeth. He didn’t touch the water. It tasted bad. Her Carmine Eyes Eiaa Dev, 13 Chirps, croaks, and caws echo throughout the vast, endless forest. The grass glimmers under the sun’s harsh, unrelenting glare. Drops of the early morning dew cling to its fibers, glistening with a keen freshness. Flowers of all kinds, from the extravagant hydrangea to the lethal aconitum, dance in the soothing breeze. But behind its façade of beauty, the forest holds the deepest and darkest of secrets. Obscured by aging vines, a pair of carmine eyes glow with murderous intent. Who would have thought that the bane of the kingdom’s existence was a lot closer than

Our February 2023 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #240 , which asked that participants write a story/poem about love. The love we wanted participants to write about could have been any form of love—platonic, romantic, familial, etc. We received a bevy of submissions interested in all kinds of love, with pieces ranging from a poem from the perspective of a spited and obsessive former lover to a story about the protagonist’s love for their dog to a poem about Eros and Aphrodite. As always, thank you to all you participated, and please keep submitting next month! In particular, we congratulate our Winners and our Honorable Mentions, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners “Operation Valentine” by Oola Breen-Ryan, 11 “Teddy” by Aaron Duan, 11 “An Unexpected Valentine” by Violet Kottkamp, 12 “Love as a Blanket” by Claire Lin, 12 “Agapi” by Nova Macknik-Conde, 11 Honorable Mentions “Love” by Sofia Grandis-Oliveira, 10 “Because She Never Knew” by Sophie Li, 12 “Lay Me Down Tonight” by Chloe Ruan, 13 “Our Creek” by Pranjoli Sadhukha, 13 “Between Friends” by Joycelyn Zhang, 12 Operation Valentine Oola Breen-Ryan, 11 It’s the Friday morning before Valentine’s Day, and I’m completely panicking. Everyone else in my class has a date for the Valentine’s Dance. Trust me, I have absolutely no interest in going. I’m just planning on staying home and consuming large amounts of chocolate. My best friend, however, is on a different schedule.   “You want me to what?!” I exclaim, dropping the chip that I’m holding onto the giant fluffy rug that covers her bedroom floor. The dance is on Tuesday, but I’d assumed that Kenzie would want to stay home like I was going to do.   “Come on, Harper—I just need you to befriend Nate. That’s all that I’m asking.”  “How does me being friends with Nate have anything to do with him asking you out?” I ask.  “Because then you can set us up,” she says, as if it’s obvious.  This plan seems…problematic. “The dance is on Tuesday, giving me two school days to become friends with Nate,” I say. “This plan has more holes than Swiss cheese.”   “Please—I’ll arrange a date with whoever your crush is if you do this!”   This stops me cold. I’m not sure how I romantically align myself, but I have never had a crush on anybody before and I’m not sure if I ever will.   I must look pretty confused, because Kenzie quickly says, “If-if you do have a crush.”   I sort of grimace. “Kenz,” I say. “You’re my best friend. Of course I’ll try.”   She smiles at me then, and I realize: I have no idea how I’m going to pull this off.   #  “Um, hi Nate.”   Nate looks startled as he slams his locker door shut to reveal me, just standing next to his locker, slightly maniacal-looking. I stayed up late last night devising a strategy and I think I know what to do.   “Um, hi to you, too,” he says, looking sort of perplexed. Then he just walks off.   Darn it! I messed up my one chance to approach him. Now it’ll seem like I like him if I keep on bothering him during the day. And I’m not quite in the mood to embarrass myself.   I have basically no idea how to talk to him, though, so embarrassing myself it is.  #  My attempts were pointless. He has evaded, escaped from, steered clear of, eluded, and otherwise avoided me for the entire day.   Time for my last-ditch attempt. I have a folded-up note in my pocket that I wrote in art class. It’s pathetic, but I’m desperate.   Sliding it through the slits of his locker, I glance around. Our last-period classes are just wrapping up, so this is my last chance.   The paper makes a satisfying “clunk” as it lands in his locker. I walk away from it carefully, like it could explode at any point of contact.   And then I’m done.  #  On Monday morning, Nate completely ignores Kenzie. Eventually, he asks Tabitha Miller out. Tabitha is ecstatic.   Kenzie comes over to my house after school and sobs. I didn’t realize that it was possible for somebody to cry that much. But it is. I just sit there, on the sofa, wondering if I should get a glass of water for her so she doesn’t run out of liquids in her body.   “Hey, Kenz, want to go to the dance together? As friends,” I say, then gasp. I don’t know where that came from.   She looks up from her pillow, eyes wet and rimmed with red. “I, um, sure,” she says, sounding just as surprised as I am.   I nod. “Okay. I mean, Nate is a jerk.”  We both start laughing.  Nate ended up completely ditching Tabitha. She was crying in the girls’ bathroom. I felt sort of bad for her, but I wasn’t really sure how Nate had made so many people cry without being aware of it.   The dance was chaotic, but I think Kenzie realized that there was more to it than just being asked out by classmates. She had a lot of fun, and, to be perfectly honest, so did I.   And, for the record, I still got to eat a lot of chocolate.  Teddy Aaron Duan, 11 The air around me was filled with a whimsical cheer. I playfully circled around Mom and Dad, trying to catch snowflakes on my tongue. The merry laughter of the crowd that had gathered on the promenade and the faint twinkling of the Christmas bells sounded far away as I immersed myself in my own bubble. Another flurry of snowflakes blew towards me and I rushed to get a closer look at their dazzling white, but my heavy boots failed me, and a moment later I was lying face down in a fluffy pillow of snow. I was brought back to reality by Mom’s loving smile, her eyes a kaleidoscope of colors, reflecting the light shining from the glowing