Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists

Our August 2023 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #265 (provided by Stone Soup intern Sage Millen), which asked that participants write a story that ended in someone brushing their teeth. Our submitters certainly got creative, with one story ending in a zookeeper brushing a tiger’s teeth, and another ending in a super-powered hamster brushing her teeth after saving a family in Thailand. As always, thank you to all you 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 “Déjà Vu” by Isha Bhadauria, 13 “Brushing Teeth: One Small Step for Man, One Giant Leap for Food” by Jayan Byrapuram, 12 “Pink Magic” by Reese Fujikawa, 12 “Super Peaches: Amini’s Rescue” by Greta Garretson, 8 “A Brush with Destiny” by Milly Wang, 10 Honorable Mentions “The House” by Nandan Chazhiyat, 12 “I Broke My Brother” by Kyle Chinchio, 10 “Toothbrush Vs. Candy” by Chloe Lin, 11 “Camping” by Taj Malinis-Jackson, 10 “Click” by Angela Mu, 13 Déjà Vu Isha Bhadauria, 13 Every human knows that at any given day, hour, second, their life could end. However, hardly any human ever really contemplates the prospect of actually dying. Of course, there’s always a few exceptions – a few have scratched the surface of truth; in turn, beginning practices of various religions: Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, and many more. However, the brain of a human is simply incompetent to realize the real. To a human, man is the center of the universe; the smartest being; the only life for many, many miles around. And to every human, there are specific humans that are more important or less important to them than others. They think that what matters to everyone is their love, their friendship, their loss. To someone like me… this is a combination of both hubris and a prodigious lack of brain cells. However, I suppose it’s not really their fault. No human can spend every waking second thinking they may die. They’ll go crazy. A human is given both the gift and the curse of being able to adapt. On the good side, they won’t lose their mind if they know that all day, every day, there’s a possibility of Death, and will get used to it. On the bad side, staying in this inebriated state of thinking everything’s fine makes all humans prone to careless errors, sometimes even resulting in catastrophe. Take Samuel Davis, for example. Being in the military, fighting in what I believe is now World War LVIII, Death is something too close to ignore, but too scary to think about. Even when the bomb hit, his last thoughts were of his favorite people: his mother and father, little sister, friends… Never about me. I had called to him, like I did for many other men lost on the battlefield. He had fought against me, just like everyone else. But somehow, this one seemed… different. I decided to speak to him before sending him away. “Hello, Samuel,” I said nonchalantly as he looked around, bewildered. “Is… Is this heaven?” he panted. Ah. Religion. His file materialized in my hand, and I glanced at the red, bolded letters bearing the word, “CHRISTIAN.” “Is this heaven?” he repeated, grasping my arm. “No, Samuel,” I said firmly, and he released his tight grip, eyes full of worry. “Then am I in…?” “No, Samuel. Not that either.” He frantically checked himself for a pulse, and proceeded to make anxious, squawking noises. I sighed. He wasn’t different from the rest after all. But as I turned, ready to call someone to take him away, he grabbed my arm again. I stared at him, confused. “Where are we?” he pleaded for answers. “You’re in Aleiliae,” I asserted, but then blurted something else out without much thought. “Listen Samuel, I’m going to offer you a choice, as I do for all of my favorite mortals.” He blinked. “Why am I your favorite?” I mentally bashed myself with a club, cursing myself for telling him that as he looked at me like a child given a piece of candy. Since I didn’t want to tell him I was bored of simply collecting and disposing of souls, my response was cloying and syrupy: “Your goodwill is unrivaled, especially in such an important time for humans: World War LVIII.” It seemed to work for him, though. His eyes lit up. “What’s the choice?” “You can stay here with me,” I lied, “or choose to be reborn into a new life. What do Hindus call it… Reincarnation?” “Reborn!” he quickly chose. I breathed a quick sigh of relief as I painted a big, obnoxious smile on my face. This should be adequate entertainment after all, I thought. I hastily opened a portal to the mortal world. “Well, this is it, then. I hope to see you again, Samuel.” He looked at the portal, then rushed toward me and gave me a hug. My jaw clenched and locked in its forced grin, I removed him from me as he thanked me profusely. Samuel waved and stepped into the portal. As soon my face dropped into its usual frown and I closed the swirling vortex, my mouth flipped over once again as I laughed, and laughed, and laughed. The naïvety of a human is truly something. *** At that same time in the human world, a beautiful baby girl was born in France. She was chubby, healthy, and very, very happy. If it weren’t for the visions… Her parents, beaming at the time, had no idea what was coming their daughter’s way. Every night since the day she turned three years old, she began to have the same recurring dream: a man dying from a bomb in war. She’d scream and awaken, but only after she’d see the dying man up close; his uniform splattered with blood, his eyes open but unseeing, his friend shaking him and screaming his name: “Samuel