I walk through the silent pasture to the tree swing. I sit down and start to swing. I close my eyes and fall into a silent sleep. When I open my eyes I see the ground is littered with leaves, acorns and plants of all kinds. I sit listening to the wind roar. I am not troubled. I just sit there watching waiting. Riley Grace Carlson, 9Franklin, Tennessee
Search Results for: winter
A Winter Walk
It was one of those winter days that seemed much more like spring. There had been a storm yesterday but the only trace of it now was the slightly dark mist suspended in the vast open sky. Weak sunlight crept through the open windows, casting a timid sort of light throughout the room and a quiet chirping of birds could almost be heard outside in the maple tree. It was just one of those days begging for me to go…
Winter Night
The world is black No moon No stars As black as ink from a squid The air is damp And moist My clothing is wet and cold Up against my skin I can hear only My breath And the crunching of snow Coming from my feet My boots sink into the crystals Of white I walk for hours Until I see a light From a cottage I smile And run My feet pounding into the snow My breath blowing in…
Winter Violin
And then, I play the last note It was a chilly autumn morning. I pushed my hands into my pockets as I walked out of our house to the car. “Don’t worry, Renee,” said my mom, “you’ll do great.” Still, though, I worried. Today I had an audition for a competition to play at Benaroya Hall. I had practiced and practiced and practiced and had even taken ten deep breaths, but still my nerves felt like someone was dancing the…
The First Morning of Winter
It is silent. Skeletons of trees. A lonely crow shrieks. And is gone in a black smudge, Erased from the sky. The air is cold melted silver, Each breath freezes and falls, Then shatters on the ground. Blades of grass cocooned in frost, Crackle when you step on them. The last leaf falls, A drop of orange on the white sheet. Winter is here. Cammie Keel, 13Boulder, Colorado
Flash Contest #72, February 2025: Create a story, poem, artwork, or musical composition that reimagines Valentine’s Day in an unexpected way—Our Winners and Their Work
Our February 2025 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #313 (provided by the Stone Soup editorial board), which asked to create a story, poem, artwork, or musical composition that reimagines Valentine’s Day in an unexpected way while avoiding typical Valentine’s words like love, roses, and hearts, and instead, use unconventional imagery, themes, or emotions to express connection and affection. As always, thank you to all who participated, and please keep submitting next month! In particular, we congratulate our Honorable Mentions,…
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…
Tired Wounds
A grieving child is locked in with his great fear It was frail. Old too. It had hair like twigs rotting in winter’s wrath. Easy to snap. Its body was made of a corpse of something beautiful, something fragrant. It was weak, lying there in the corner of the room, moonlight slowly spilling onto it. There was a child too. Red-cheeked, eyes swollen, he sat at the edge of the room whispering words that wouldn’t be listened to. It had…
Editor’s Note
In this issue, we greet my favorite season, fall, which holds within it many moments to celebrate and reflect. It’s a season of transition, as the leaves change color and the wind moves us from summer toward winter—as reflected in our first two pieces, a very short fiction piece called “The Wind” and a play entitled The Storm. It’s also back-to-school time, and we have two funny poems about that. Oct. 14 is Indigenous Peoples’ Day, and we include two…
Rise Up
A meek hermit crab is fed up with the bully crabs at school I wake up to the mechanical beeping of my alarm clock. I sit up rubbing my eye stalks. I climb out of bed and take off my scratchy abdomen cover. I quickly put on a moss-cotton and coconut fiber one, and then I put on a white shirt with a tree on it, and the four-legged jeans I always wear on my visible legs, and I shove…
