winners

Our September 2023 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #269 (provided by Stone Soup contributor Molly Torinus), which asked that participants write a story from the perspective of a pet. Our submitters wrote about their furry friends’ crazy and (often hilarious) adventures. There were plenty of escapes, an ant left behind, a search for tuna, and trips into alternate dimensions. 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 “From ForeverPet to Forever Home” by Nikita Fishman, 12 “Mian Mian’s Untimely Adventure” by Courtney Fong, 12 “I’ll Keep Waiting” by Abigail Lee, 12 “The Life of a Guinea Pig” by Nova Macknik-Conde, 11 “Sticky and the Power of Friendship in Warfare” by Aleena Shaik, 13 Honorable Mentions “Forgotten” by Kyle Chinchio, 10 “The Ocean’s Presents” by Olivia Hsu, 11 “The (Mis)adventures of Butters the Cat” by Dylan Suggs, 11 “The Dogs Who Hated Their Owners” by Helena Xue, 10 “Visit to the Vet” by Eric Yang, 13 From ForeverPet to Forever Home NIKITA FISHMAN, 12 Monday, May 25 was a special date; I knew from the minute I woke up. Sunlight beamed through the windows, casting a gentle glow that danced on the gleaming, polished floors. Nestled snugly within my sleeping chamber, I found myself sound asleep, oblivious to the world around me. A silly smile adorned my face as I drooled. Suddenly, a jarring phone ring erupted from the reception desk, dragging me from my sweet Neverland. It had been like this for months. Ever since the pandemic, my temporary home at ForeverPet Southfield had been transformed into a tranquil haven. Instead of the persistent echoing footsteps, I was interrupted only by the sudden “Ring!” that would inexplicably shatter the calm. I preferred footsteps over phone rings; they offered a more gradual, and thus, more predictable rhythm. With the soothing elevator music in the background, you could almost imagine the person approaching—whether tall or short, slender or plump, young or old. On the other hand, phone rings were sudden and sporadic. I yearned for the old days when the small pets’ aisle basked in peace, while the true hustle and bustle unfolded in the cats and dogs’ sections or within the pet salon. Watching dogs in their overgrown coats being reluctantly dragged into the salon never failed to bring an uproarious comedy spectacle. But, back to my story, the day that changed my life forever. . . Upon awakening, I opened my eyes to find my favorite person, John, one of the store managers, approaching the small pet aisle. I don’t see him often since he’s typically occupied helping out chatty dog owners. However, on the rare occasions I do get to spend time with him, he never fails to greet me with a handful of treats and his signature belly rub. Hamsters are never given much attention. The only other interactions I had with the other store clerks were scheduled cage cleanings, during which my soiled bedding was removed and my food replenished. John was an exception. Donned in a pink polo shirt with the ForeverPet logo, he held a phone to his ear with his right hand, while his other hand opened the Roborovski dwarf hamster enclosure on my left. After a brief moment of inspecting the cage, he said, “Yes, we have quite a few dwarf hamsters available. We are open until eight o’clock this evening. My name is John by the way. Feel free to ask for me when you come in.” He finally hung up. “Over here, John! I’m awake!” I cried out, running a few laps around my enclosure in hopes of gaining his attention. “Hi, little one,” John tapped on my cage. He whispered, “Maybe today will be the day. A girl and her mom are on their way in search of a dwarf hamster!” At that very moment, the world came to a halt for me. A shockwave surged through my spine, as if an imaginary colony of ants were crawling up my neck. Did this mean I would never see John ever again? I immediately started squeaking in protest. “Are you excited, little one?” John asked, adding a chuckle. What? No! Was he out of his mind? I watched in disbelief as he walked away with a smile plastered on his face. He even forgot my treats! My heart thumped against my rib cage like a hungry beast trying to escape its cage. How could you, John? I sank down against the side of my enclosure, drowning in my own defeat. It was at that very moment that I came up with a plan, my last hope—playing dead. No one would want a dead rodent, right? All my life I wanted to be wanted, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I dashed towards a shadowy corner of my cage and began excavating a deep hole, ready to put my plan into action. I’ll bury myself and maybe they won’t even notice me. The more I said it, the more I believed it. Tick-tock, the hours raced past. Between pacing back and forth in my cage and casting anxious glances at the door, it was nearing five o’clock before I knew it. There was zero sign of the girl and her mom. Optimistic thoughts began to surface in my mind. Could it be that they got lost on their way? Maybe, better yet, had a change of heart and opted to go with a cat or dog instead? Holding onto these hopeful thoughts, I dozed off. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay after all. The next thing I knew, I was awakened by someone peering down into the cage and enthusiastically bouncing up and down. Huh? What’s going on? Puzzled, I poked my head out, sniffing the air and examining my surroundings. A few feet away from me, I spotted a small ponytail bobbing

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

Our July 2023 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #260, which asked that participants write a story (or poem) that ended in fireworks. Participants were free to interpret “fireworks” however they desired, with most opting for the literal meaning, however some particularly creative submissions had their own interpretations; one story ended in the northern lights, and another ended in a magical flower bloom. Other submissions ranged from a story about a stubborn and crafty dog to a melancholic story about a baby shower to a story about a woman’s late-life realization. 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 “Glow” by Nova Macknik-Conde, 11 “Reflections” by Zoe Pazner, 12 “Fireworks of the Stars” by Makela S, 13 “The Baby Shower” by Zoey Shield, 13 “A Tail of Fireworks and Wonder: Coco’s Sparkling Adventure” by Milly Wang, 10 Honorable Mentions “It’s going to Be Alright” by Kyle Chinchio, 10 “The Deadline” by Mia Goldschmidt, 9 “An Independence Day to Remember” by Isa Hasan, 13 “A Home to Remember” by Madelynn Lee, 12 “Change” by Jeremy Lim, 10 Glow Nova Macknik-Conde, 11 The children dance around the fairy lights Trying to catch them in see-through jars Not sparing a thought that Their gleaming prisoners may die   I would not be so unwise To think I could own fireflies That if I captured them As they fled from me in fright They should be my nightlight   I would sit on my porch and watch Dazzled by the blinking sparks Joining the twinkling stars that make up galaxies That shine against the swirling blues, purples, and blacks   I heave a sigh and pull my curtains shut Thinking of tomorrow’s glorious day, before The night when all the fireworks will crackle in the sky Wondrous shades of red, blue, and white The shy kid that hides when I come over will shout ‘Hooray! It’s America Day!’   And I will wave sparklers and eat S’mores And I will stop worrying for next school year And I will have not a care in the world Far from pain and sadness and hateful comments Wrapped in warmth and kindness and light Reflections Zoe Pazner, 12 I walked along the concrete road leading to a beach side bar. I had walked this path so many times before with my mom, my dad and my brother. I was the only one who was left. We came here every year for the fourth of July, my father always loved watching the fireworks. Now in my old age the memories begin to fade farther into my past and I begin to forget the unforgettable. I took a seat at a table, a feeling of deja vu washing over me like waves as I put my back against the hard chair. Music played loudly but it was still in the background of my thoughts. The chair that sat across from me felt like an empty void waiting to be filled with no one to fill it. For the first time in years I felt truly alone, reflecting on what I now felt was a meaningless life. A young woman snapped me out of my thoughts by asking, “could I borrow this chair for my friend?” I looked over to her table full of life and cheerful chatter with so much envy. I nodded at the girl and she gave me a warm smile, which I promptly returned. The sound of clapping filled the beach as the band finished playing “When Doves Cry” by Prince. When the clapping stopped the singer came to the mike and said, “Thank you! We will now be singing “At Last” by Etta James! I hope you enjoy it.” The crowd grew silent with the exception of a few couples who made shuffling noses as they got up on stage to dance. As I watched the couples dance and the music began to play, I was reminded of a distant memory. Many years ago when I was just five years old I came out of my room and into the living room. My dad stood hunched over the record player as he carefully put the easily damaged record into place. He pressed a silver button and I watched with amazement as the black needle slowly dropped itself onto the record. My dad turned around and smiled at me as the opening chords of “At Last” played through the speakers. By the time I had snapped back to the present the song was over and the couples had sat back down, laughing and smiling. The band leader came back up to the microphone and said, “Alright we’re going to take a break as the fourth of July fireworks commence, have a great night folks!” Many went back to their hotel room roofs to get a better view of the fireworks but I decided to take a stroll instead. I walked along the shoreline letting the water tickle my toes as the sand crunched against my feet. I watched as the waves crashed over and over in a never- ending loop of beautiful blue ocean. Then I heard the first boom of fireworks and looked up to see dazzling colors of red white and blue fill the sky. The colors reflected back on the water, a mere rippled version of the real fireworks shown up above me. Sometimes I think I spent so much time looking down that I ended up missing the magic that was right above my head the whole time. Fireworks of the Stars Makela S, 13 2712 CE SHE WAKES to gray and black: metal walls and threadbare pillows and meager quilts. She jolts upright, chest heaving as she tries to remember where she is, when it is. For a moment, all is darkness, until a message flashes across her vision. Please come. She scrambles forward, panic