Flash Contest

Our April Flash Contest was based on Prompt #198 (provided by intern Sim Ling Thee), which challenged participants to write a story in which the protagonist failed at everything and ultimately didn’t succeed in the end. Unsurprisingly, this subverting prompt led to some the most inspired writing we’ve seen yet! Submissions ranged from a violin recital from the perspective of a snooty child to an unreliable narrator’s laundry list of past failures to an old woman’s battle with growing tomatoes. In one story, the unlikeable protagonist even smeared butter on their nemesis’ lawn! As always, thank you to all who submitted, and please submit again next month! In particular, we congratulate our Winners and our Honorable Mentions, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners “Curses!” by Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) “Beatrice” by Olivia Owens, 13 (Jacksonville, FL) “A Failing Success” by Emily Tang, 13 (Winterville, NC) “Cypress Woman” by Ellis Yang, 12 (Los Altos, CA) “You Win Some, You Lose Some” by Savarna Yang, 13 (Outram, New Zealand) Honorable Mentions “Dangly Necklaces” by Victoria Gong, 10 (Scarsdale, NY) “Learning to Fly” by Marin Hamory, 10 (Wellesley, MA) “The Last Leaf” by Kimberly Hu, 9 (Lake Oswego, OR) “The Performance” by Elizabeth Sabaev, 11 (Forest Hills, NY) “Gray” by Alex Zigoneanu, 11 (Portland, OR) Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) Curses! Lui Lung, 12 “’When people heard his name, breathed reverently in hushed tones, it was fear that swiftly rooted in their veins.’ Curses! That doesn’t make sense. No, how about… ‘It was fear that blasted through their minds in a paralyzing rush!’” In the shadowed city that had long since fallen asleep, in a small apartment building tucked on the very outskirts, all but a single light remained aglow. Seemingly the only soul awake at such late hours gave an approving nod at his own writing, fingers gliding rapidly across the keyboard without a noticeable sign of halting. “’Their hearts stampeded in a cacophonous rhythm, their thoughts stumbling over one another like dominoes sent tumbling with a mere flick of his finger. This city was a ticking time bomb, and I’—or he, sorry—’would be the one to detonate it into a booming eruption.’ Here comes the big ending, Murphy, the crescendo to the grand conclusion of the symphony! ‘And within the thundering outburst and from the rubble that remains, I am’—no, he is—’the last one standing!’” The villain pumped his fists high into the air, a triumphant man high off a victory. He glanced at his trusty sidekick, Murphy, who languidly stretched on the tabletop. “Well, my friend? What do you think? Does that strike fear in your heart?” The heavyset, orange tabby simply yawned, his little pink mouth falling wide open. “Oh, no, you definitely need to cut down on the tuna,” sputtered the villain, fanning the air before him at the ghastliness of the cat’s breath. As if he understood, Murphy lunged forward and clamped his jaw down firmly upon his owner’s forearm. The villain frantically shook his arm to free himself from his companion’s vengeful grip. “Ow! Curse you, feline demon! I will—” “So, this is what the great terror of the city does in his free time,” a voice mused coolly. The villain would have known who that voice was without having to turn around, but he decided that slowly spinning around in his chair would provide the dramatic effect he needed to hide the shock. Unfortunately, he leaned too far in one direction while attempting to spin and the chair promptly tilted over, leaving him in an uncoordinated heap on the floor. “Curses! My back!” The sound of Murphy hissing his discontent and then slowly lumbering off followed. Why, that traitorous ingrate! He straightened at once, lifting his chin with as much dignity he had left to muster from where he sprawled below. “Hah! This is all part of my plan, you buffoon!” It was not. The hero smiled indulgently, like she was only playing along to soothe his wounded pride. “Right. I’m sure getting exposed and captured was all part of your plan.” “You silly heroes these days. There is no prison I cannot escape,” said the villain pompously, although the sweat trickling down the back of his neck suggested otherwise. “Well, how did you find me? I wanted you to find me, though. Obviously!” “Obviously,” the hero agreed, her gaze flickering to the computer screen where he’d been starting a rough draft of his next magnificent work. “Just as obvious as you were when you were trying to hide. Really, who else would write and publish pages and pages of nonsense praising this city’s most notorious villain that no one reads?” The villain’s face flushed in indignation. “Nonsense? Nay, my blog oozes evil brilliance! And I’m a super-villain, for your information.” He paused, thinking of a clever, new strategy to fool his heroic rival. “I mean, forget that. It’s actually not my blog, because I’m not the man you’re looking for!” The hero looked entirely unconvinced, which was peculiar. The villain knew he was a spectacular liar! In desperation, he called for the assistance of his fearsome cat. “Murphy, my honorable companion! I’m sorry I said you had bad breath, just help me now!” A disdainful meow sounded from somewhere in the mess of old pizza boxes and unwashed laundry. “I will have my revenge on you,” vowed the villain darkly. “And you, too, you weak hero! Evil will always prevail over good!” The hero’s expression was now one of pity more than anything, and she gave his arm a gentle pat before securing the handcuffs in place on his wrists. “Alright, buddy, I’m sure the police will love to hear all about your plans for vengeance.” “Ah, yes, my plans! You’ll never know the plans I have for this city! Take me alive or take me dead, that brilliant secret will—” “You mean the top-secret plans that you posted on your blog?” “Curses!” Olivia Owens, 13 (Jacksonville, FL) Beatrice Olivia Owens,