Emily Gu, 9 Defeating Covid-19 Together Emily Gu, 9 Purell had always wanted to get this much attention. Before he became the most popular kid in school, he was an unused loner sitting on the counter. Even worse, sometimes he was desperately waiting to be rescued from the dark locker where the big “bully” tossed him away. Even though he was over 99.99% awesome at wiping out germs and disease, the students ignored him. They excluded him because they thought they were tougher than the germs. Therefore, they washed their hands so casually that they only rinsed it a bit. The teacher always tried to make Purell’s classmates give attention to him, but they just wouldn’t listen and kept teasing him about how he was a poor substitute for Washing Hands. Just because Washing Hands had warm water and bubbly soap didn’t mean Purell was useless; he just wasn’t appreciated. Suddenly, thanks to our enemy, Covid-19, Purell became a quick and easy star! Now Purell’s classmates are always fighting for him. On the other hand, Washing Hands couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t ever had imagined being traded for the “used to be,” stupid Purell. But there he was sitting in the smelly bathroom waiting for someone to use him. Washing Hands had dropped down to the last person on the list. Now, whenever Purell’s classmates saw him, they would grab a hold of him and take him away to a secret place as if they were stealing him so they could use Purell for themselves. At the end of the day when the school bell rings, the custodian finds Purell either in the cabinet, in the bathroom, or even in the janitor’s closet! As the days went on Purell got more and more popular. One day, a classmate brought him to the bathroom. He was sitting on the floor when he looked up and saw Washing Hands. Uh oh, he thought.Washing Hands was sitting near the sink offering soap looking very lonely and sad. Purell realized that there was no harm intended this time. Washing Hands was really sad, so Purell walked up to him and said, “Hello Washing Hands. Is everything ok?” Washing Hands didn’t reply; he just shuffled away to a corner as his stomach grumbled. Purell sat down beside him and took out his lunchbox. “Want some of my sandwich? You look quite hungry,” he asked as he offered him half of his sandwich. Washing Hands took it. “Yes, thank you” he said shyly. “You are very welcome!” Purell replied with a smile. Before starting to eat, they traded anti-germ strategies. They each took a bite. Then another and another until their mouths were full of peanut butter and jelly. They grinned from ear to ear with messy hands and became best friends ever since. Now, whenever classmates came to clean their hands, they used both Purell and Washing Hands working together to keep their classmates from getting Covid, and the evil virus was finally defeated.
flash fiction
Flash Contest #23, September 2020: Flash Fiction from the Perspective of an Object – our winners & their work!
Flash Contest #23: Create a piece of flash fiction written from the perspective of the first object you saw when you woke up this morning. Your narrative should be no longer than 250 words. For our first monthly version of our regular Flash Contest we decided to request a piece of flash fiction from an unusual perspective: that of a random object. Given that we asked for the perspective of the first thing the writer saw when they woke up in the morning, we gained a lot of insight into the inner lives of lamps, pets, curtains, toys, clothing, bedding, books and magazines, desk items like pens and pencils, and many other stalwarts of the bedroom. It was so much fun to read the various lively and perceptive voices you gave to these inanimate (or non-human) objects. Many of them seem to take a very dim view of the humans they have their silent eyes on most of the day (or night), especially all the things they witness that they would rather not see . . . We are delighted to share the work of our winners with you on this page. Congratulations to all of them, and to our Honorable Mentions. Remember: the next monthly flash contest will be based on the first weekly prompt of October! Winners “The Silent Stalker” by Chloe Chan, 12, Bellevue, WA “Worst Fear” by Scarlet He, 9, Scarsdale, NY “Travails and Humiliations of a Cotton Shirt” by Iago Macknik-Conde, 13, Brooklyn, NY “Wanted” by Daniel Wei, 13, Weddington, NC “Woes of a Blanket” by Lacole Yang, 13, Irvine CA Honorable Mention “Story of the Bed” by Vaishali Andukuri, 10, Oakland, NJ “Day of a Pencil Box” by Judah Davidoff, 9, Brunswick, MD “The Proud Life of a Blanket” by Lucy Kershen, 13, Norman, OK “The Life of a Lamp” by Chloe Mancini, 9, Glenside, PA “New and Improved” by Sanvi Patel, 11, Midland, MI “Morning from the Eyes of a Doll” by Joycelyn Zhang, 10, San Diego, CA Chloe Chan, 12Bellevue, WA The Silent Stalker Chloe Chan, 12 Ding ding ding! The half-awake girl below me groans loudly as she hears the alarm clock ringing maliciously in the morning. Finally, after rolling around on the bed, she wrenches the teal green blanket off and stumbles–if not sleepwalks–into the bathroom. I see everyone and everything from a bird’s eye view. I know the secrets of everyone. There are some things I would rather not see. Just like when I saw a toddler picking his nose with his thumb. Just like when I saw a laughing mother binge-watch “Kitchen Nightmares.” Just like when I saw the girl make up an excuse to her teacher when she forgot her homework. “My dog ate my homework,” is what she mumbled. The girl exits the bathroom and heads downstairs into the kitchen. Yes! My favorite part of the day! I hear a racket of pots and pans. I smell an assortment of berries, batter, and butter. Hmm . . . is she making pancakes for breakfast today? I look at her, hovering over a brown, spongy pancake with a spoonful of aromatic berries to go onto her pancake. Yum! Oh, how I wish I could taste this masterpiece! But I am unable to do so. You may be wondering what I am. Well, I can’t tell you my answer or else scientists will come after me! Just thinking of this gives me a nightmare! You will just have to guess. At least, I call myself the silent stalker. Scarlet He, 9Scarsdale, NY Worst Fear Scarlet He, 9 I peered through the tinted green tank. Big human woke up. Left room. I swam around. Plants on the bottom of my tank grew. Grew and grew . . . never-ending growing. Soon, my whole tank was filled with the long stems of plastic plants. You could no longer see the rainbow rocks at the bottom of the tank. I swam around once more, dazed. The human had not come back. Where had she gone? All I see is an ocean of green and black. It had been at least a few hours. Human still not back. Plants overwhelming me. I closed my eyes. I drifted to the top of the tank, my belly facing up. My worst fear had overcome me, once again. I opened my eyes. Where was the green? A big grinning face was looking through the tank. The water was clear, like clear glue, and the plants were gone. The rainbow rocks reflected off the tank, casting a shimmering glint. Iago Macknick-Conde, 13Brooklyn, NY Travails and Humiliations of a Cotton Shirt Iago Macknik-Conde, 13 I am a shirt. A red cotton shirt, but fading fast. That’s because of my wearer, thirteen years old and going on six. I kid you not, the brat took me to the Y last Friday and used me as a swim-shirt. First of all, he keeps me on while he changes into his swim-trunks, and there are just some things you can’t unsee. As if that’s not humiliating enough, then I have to swallow the insults from the swim-shirt gang in the pool. “Aye, what’re you doing here in the water, you landlubber!” The creeps talk like pirates like they think that’s cool. Dorks. “Ahoy, scallywag, try to not choke your swimmer!” The swim-shirt closest to me jabbers on, and I realize that air is trapped below my collar, turning me into a buoy. So now I’m suffocating the little moron. Finally the class ends, with the kid half dead, my body drenched, and the seadog losers laughing their hems off. Two days ago, I get some relief at last when the cleaning lady arrives. She puts me inside the washing machine and then lays me inside the dryer for a full-body massage. Best of all, she sets me on the highest shelf of the closet, next to an unmatched sock who has been hiding here for longer than I’ve been alive. We should be good for a few years: no way the brat can reach us without a stool
Weekly Creativity #117 | Flash Contest: Write flash fiction from the perspective of an object
Create a piece of flash fiction written from the perspective of the first object you saw when you woke up this morning. Your narrative should be no longer than 250 words. This is the first weekly prompt of September, so it is also the topic for our monthly flash contest: entries due by midday Pacific time on Sunday September 13!
