Contests

Flash Contest #20: Write a poem inspired by a song. The week commencing August 10th (Daily Creativity Prompt #101) was our twentieth week of Flash Contests. The prompt asked our entrants to write a poem inspired by a song they’ve been listening to a lot. The entries we received ranged from poetry set to the tune of a certain song, poetry inspired by a theme of a song, poetry inspired by classical music, contemporary music, musicals, and even our entrants’ own musical compositions. We greatly enjoyed reading the many entries we received; well done to everyone who submitted to this prompt, and a special congratulations to our Winners and Honorable Mentions, listed below.  Read on past the list of placed entries to experience the Winners’ work for yourselves! Winners Satisfied by Savannah Black, 9 (Yuba City, CA) First Flight by Fern Hadley, 12 (Cary, NC) Requiem by Joyce Hong, 10 (Oakville, ON) Mendelssohn’s Voices by Eric Liang, 13 (Sherborn, MA) Last Night by Daniel Wei, 13 (Weddington, NC) Honorable Mentions The Lovely Birds by Nova Macknik-Conde, 8 (Brooklyn, NY) Christmas Carols by Ashvant Daniel, 11 (Portland, OR) Mad World 2020 by Emma Hoff, 8 (Bronx, NY) The King of the Snow by Kyler Min, 9 (Vienna, VA) Dance Monkey by Sophie Yu, 12 (Houston, TX) Savannah Black, 9Yuba City, CA Satisfied Savannah Black, 9 I am never satisfied There is always another step to climb Another home run to hit Another goal to score Another painting to paint Another checkmate to you Another chore to do Another essay to write And another test to crush If I want to get ahead I have to come out on top I’ll never stop till I am on the top Of the team and then the class and then the school and then on top of the world I am never happy with where I am I will get more Like Alexander I will thrive Like Angelica I will never be satisfied Fern Hadley, 12Cary, NC First Flight Fern Hadley, 12 Editor’s Note: Fern’s poem was inspired by her original composition, First Flight. You can listen to Fern’s composition here.  A world just beyond your mind, just above your grasp, waiting to be discovered— Gaze upward, see the light shining through, feel the yearn in your heart until you cannot ignore it— Find a way, unfurl your wings, take to the sky, soar into the light— Fly, spirit free, heart beating in time with the melody of flight— See the storm ahead gathering clouds, thunder rolls, lightning crackles— Persevere, yet rain falls, shards of glass piercing pinions— Fall from the sky, wings battered, feathers torn, hope drained— See the light. See the light. See the light. SEE THE LIGHT. Muster your strength, beat your wings to the rhythm of your unfailing heart, fly upwards— Rise through the storm, the song of your heart ringing in your ears, hope restored— Reach the light. Joyce Hong, 10Oakville, ON Requiem Joyce Hong, 10 When the villains fall- The villain is you I don’t cry, not at all Don’t say it wasn’t true Now that you’re dead Some notice you, I predict But I only remember you For the wounds you inflict Don’t think that I’ve forgotten I carry them around, too Don’t think that I’ll say, “It’s okay” I cannot forgive you A candle to put at your picture For a remembrance, we light The memories we cannot forget In the dead of night Mother lights a candle She knows you’re still here Father lights a candle He doesn’t want you to disappear In one hand I hold the lighter The candle’s in the other I look up at mother and father Then I see your picture, my brother I’m tempted to light the candle Play this game of pretend For everyone who knew you Reassure them- “This isn’t the end” But I Cannot play the grieving girl And lie Saying that I miss you I am my own person You were a monster to me Now that you’re gone I hope I’m finally free The lighter and the candle They both fall to the ground Tonight, this night There’s no requiem to be found. Eric Liang, 13Sherborn, MA Mendelssohn’s Voices Eric Liang, 13 Eyes stare out at the dull, Knowing but not wanting to know, Desperate, wants a different fate, Wild noises scream, Shattering, Insane, Surfaces tremble and break, Life snaps. Falling, through light and words, Then struggling up to experience anew. Shock leaves thoughts, Songs of smiles drift astray; Rolling joy as tears burn away, Yank and wrench, As it says goodbye: Valleys rise to crush, But fails to strike hope. Not enough, not nearly Agony forces, pushes, Until laughter spins out of control. Daniel Wei, 13Weddington, NC Last Night Daniel Wei, 13 Last night, I had this dream about you In this dream, I was dancing right beside you Underneath the awakening sun Captivated by your enthralling beauty We crossed the plains of green and yellow Down the dirt paths of the backcountry Your hand in mine, we skipped towards a pier And set sail on the bluest lake We rowed across the water The soft breeze tousling your hair The sunlight sparkled across the waves Shooting rainbows toward the sky Later that day, we walked to the old oak tree Sitting down, I pulled out a basket Two crystal glasses, plus a royal feast Eating ‘till our hearts were full At night, with the crickets serenading us We pranced in the grass, barefoot Underneath the twinkling stars It was the perfect day Until I awoke, alone in my bed Ooh, I don’t know what to do About this dream and you I wish this dream comes true

Flash contest #19: Write a backwards story The week commencing August 3 (Daily Creativity Prompt #96) was our nineteenth week of flash contests, with a prompt that asked our entrants to write a story that goes backwards. The entries we received covered a broad range of topics, from family to animals to weather to space travel to time travel to friendship, and much more, even including a few poems. We greatly enjoyed reading all of the entries we received, and loved how the plots of the stories were slowly revealed as they traveled backwards. Well done to all of our entrants for taking on the difficult task of telling a story backwards, and particular congratulations to our Winners and Honorable Mentions, listed below. Read on past the list of winners to experience the Winners’ work for yourselves. Winners The Project by Katie Bergsieker, 12 (Denver, CO) Surprise by Scarlet He, 9 (Scarsdale, NY) Once and For All by Joyce Hong, 10 (Oakville, ON) This Day Has Come Too Soon by Ella Pierce, 12 (Hudson, WI) Sea of Souls by Daniel Wei, 13 (Weddington, NC) Honorable Mentions Jewish Friend, Backwards End by Becca Jacobson, 11 (Montclair, NJ) Falling by Vaishnavi Kumbala, 12 (Metairie, LA) The Irrefusable Offer by Kyler Min, 9 (Vienna, VA) On Top of the World by Mihika Sakharpe, 11 (Frisco, TX) Last Thoughts by Ismini Vasiloglou, 11 (Atlanta, GA/Athens, Greece) Katie Bergsieker, 12Denver, CO The Project Katie Bergsieker, 12 “Sophie! Thank goodness you’re here! Look!” my best friend Kylie cries, pointing. I follow her finger. She is pointing to a boy that has my hair color, eyes, skin tone, and more. He looks almost identical to me. “Stephen?” I breathe, unbelieving. “I’m told that I belong to the McGrafty family? I was taken by a van while playing with my sister, you see…” His voice is deeper than I expected. “Stephen,” I say as he pauses for breath. “I am your sister.” My eyes, and his, fill with tears. I should start from the beginning. And my beginning actually starts with a very perturbed me.   No. “I’m not going to the carnival, Mom,” I say, exasperated. “I know, but honey, can’t you take a break?” Mom says. “You know that you don’t have to be working on your… ahem… project every second of the day, right?” “I do, actually,” I mumble. “I can’t go to the carnival because… oh, Kylie invited me to come over to her house.” That wasn’t true, but Mom couldn’t have guessed. I spend a ton of time with my BFF, Kylie. At least I did, before I got sucked into my important project. Mom raises one eyebrow. “Fine. I’ll go to the carnival with George, then. Have fun with Kylie. Do you need me to drive you?” “No, I can walk,” I reply. “Kylie lives a block away, so what’s the point of driving, anyway?” “Okay,” Mom says, turning to pick up my baby brother George. “Be back by six. And what is your “project”, again?” Mom always asks about the project. Now it’s my turn to raise my eyebrow. “Mom, I told you already. I’m not going to tell you!” I swore to secrecy that I wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m not about to break that promise now. Mom, as usual, takes forever to pack all of George’s things before finally heading out the garage door. “Bye, Sophie!” she calls over an upset, screaming George who doesn’t want to go into his stroller. Instead of going to Kylie’s house right away (I didn’t say that I was going to, did I?), I plop down in front of our computer. I open up a new browser and type: Sophie McGrafty. My name. The internet gives me many articles that I can type on. They’re all the same as usual though. Sophie McGrafty looking for missing twin. Twin missing. Where is Sophie McGrafty’s twin? Explorers search for thirteen year old girl’s twin. No twin found for Sophie McGrafty, 13. I should explain. Five years ago, when searching in my mom and dad’s closet, I found a shoebox. There was a birth certificate inside. Stephen King McGrafty, it said. Born February 2. My birthday. Digging around in the shoebox some more, I had found a faded newspaper article. Stephen McGrafty, 2, reported missing, it said. I scanned the article. ‘Two year old Stephen McGrafty was playing with his twin sister, Sophie, when a van drove up to their house. Sophie ran into the house, but Stephen stayed, hypnotized by the beautiful dog in the van’s window. By the time Sophie’s parents realized Stephen wasn’t home for dinner, the van, and Stephen, were gone. The search continues, and if you see this van, please call 123-HELP.’ Of course, I didn’t remember any of this happening. I don’t even remember Stephen. Mom and Dad never talk about him. When I looked at this article, I made it my vow to try to find Stephen. After all, it was totally my fault. What kind of twin leaves their sibling behind when a creepy van pulls up in front of their house? I’m getting close. The other day, I found an article saying that a couple in Utah, only a few hours away from our house in Colorado, have a kid that they found on the side of the street. They picked him up and named him Bob. And another article said that someone named Bob Dah could be the Stephen McGrafty that we had been looking for this whole time. So I am on my search for Bob Dah. But first I have to walk over to Kylie’s house. For real. I need to ask her for a favor. I lace up my sneakers and head out. When I get to Kylie’s house, I see paparazzi, police cars, vans, and more parked outside. I push my way through and see my best friend sitting in the back corner. I look and see a boy identical to me.

Flash Contest #18: Use a classic opening line as a starting point. The week commencing July 27 (Daily Creativity Prompt #91) was our eighteenth week of flash contests, and produced a lot of entries. Our entrants took the opening words of Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, and I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith, in all sorts of creative directions. The pieces we received ranged from stories about extreme weather, to family and family history, and to some introspective narratives. We immensely enjoyed reading all of the writing we received; well done to everyone for your work on this challenge, and especially to our Winners and Honorable Mentions, listed below. Read on after the list of winners to enjoy the winners’ work for yourselves. Winners Wash the World Away by Fern Hadley, 11 (Cary, NC) Streaks by Rachel Feldman, 10 (Narberth, PA) My Manderley by Anna Haakenson, 12 (Beach Park, IL) A Letter by Shuyin Liu, 8 (Kirkland, WA) Pour Your Heart Into the Sink by Alice Xie, 12 (West Windsor, NJ) Honorable Mentions No Possibility by Katherine Bergsieker, 12 (Denver, CO) The Light Will Come Through Again by Sneha Jiju, 12 (Chandler, AZ) Dream and Dream More… by Prisha Aswal, 7 (Portland, OR) In the Kitchen Sink by Allie Dollar, 11 (Monticello, FL) Deadly Heat Wave by Nishil KC, 10 (Chantilly, VA) Fern Hadley, 11 Cary, NC Wash the World Away Fern Hadley, 11 Like Mom quoted Jane Eyre a few times: “There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.” It perfectly describes today. I stare through the window, my chin propped on my hand as I watch sheets of rain fall from the sky in waves, bouncing off the asphalt. Rain is collecting on the window’s mesh board like dewdrops on spiderwebs. For the most part, I love rain. Sometimes when humid storms sweep across the city, I go outside, my arms outstretched, my face turned to the sky. There I’ll stand, my eyes closed as warm raindrops fall onto my face. At night, rain is my lullaby. I can hear the gentle patter of raindrops through my window, and the melodic rhythm soothes me to sleep. But today, the rain appears no more than a nuisance. Beside me, Luna gazes out the window with me with an intrigued expression. I stroke her silvery grey fur as I wonder if she ever wishes she could stand outside in the warm rain like I sometimes do. We don’t allow her out for her own safety, although I think she wants to. “I wish it wasn’t raining,” I confess to Luna. “Now I can’t take a walk.” Or can I? Luna glances at me with wide blue eyes before turning back to the window. Her eyes look like the window’s glass, clear and wet with rain. Sometimes cats are better companions than humans because they can’t talk. “Honey, where are you?” I look over my shoulder. “I’m over here. By the window.” My mother steps into the living room. “There you are. What do you want me to make you for dinner?” “I don’t know.” I rub Luna’s chin as I continue to watch the rain. “If you don’t care, I’ll make lasagna,” Mom offers. She knows I hate lasagna. “Just make Dad’s favorite,” I sigh. “Tacos?” “I said Dad’s favorite.” I glare at her. “I didn’t say Stanley’s favorite.” Mom sighs. She leans against the wall and crosses her arms. “Hon, we’ve been through this before.” “You asked me what I want for dinner.” She ignores me. “Look, I know Stanley can’t ever replace your father. But both you and me had to get through the loss of your father, so please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, okay? Stanley’s doing his best right now, and I am too.” “Mom, all I said was that I want Dad’s favorite for dinner.” Mom shuts her eyes. For a moment I regret what I said, but then she just turns and walks back into the kitchen. I feel even worse. I keep staring out the window, hoping that the rain would let up. Pulling my phone out, I check the weather app. It tells me that it won’t stop raining until ten in the evening. I grumble and shove my phone back into my pocket. Suddenly, an idea escapes from the depths of my mind. I quickly catch it before it can flutter away as swift as it came. Memories emerge to the surface. That, I inform myself, is a stupid plan. I decide to do it anyway and race out the back door. The screen door slams behind me. “Honey, what are you up to?” my mom calls from the kitchen. “Be back soon!” I yell back. Only moments after I leave the house, I’m soaked. I didn’t bother to bring a sweater, and I don’t care. I fly down the block, the sound of my footsteps lost in the storm. Past the forest. Over the fence. Through the field. Make a left. I run past my house, where Mom may or may not be making Dad’s favorite. I run past the school, the library, the cafe. I run past the mall, the warehouse, the police station. All the while, the storm is relentless. I decide I need a break. I sit down on a bench in the park, catching my breath as the rain drenches my hair. The first time I ran in the rain was before I even joined track. Dad had still been alive then, and he used to run with me all the time. “Where are you two going?” Mom stuck her head out of the kitchen. “Just taking a walk or something,” Dad grinned. Mom shook her head. “ ‘There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.’ ” “What is that—Peter Pan?” “Jane Eyre.” Mom put her hands on her hips. “You shouldn’t be taking a walk in the rain. You two could