Tag: BRILLIANT Flash Fiction

BFF Writer Wins Write Well Award

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Ann-Marie Lindstrom
Ann-Marie Lindstrom

Congratulations to Ann-Marie Lindstrom, who won a Write Well Award for Becky’s Song, originally published in the September 2014 issue of Brilliant Flash Fiction. For details, check out Write Well Award and be sure to read Ann-Marie’s award winning story below.

 

 

Becky’s Song
By Ann-Marie Lindstrom

When I was a little girl, Mama always called me light-headed. I never did know what that meant. Look at my hair. It’s always been the color of mud. Never was light.

Now light-fingered I knowed. Cousin Billy Frank was light-fingered. Couldn’t take him into Mr. Hobbs’ store without his taking something weren’t his. Billy Frank had a sweet tooth. And them light fingers.

And light-hearted I know. Granny was light-hearted. She could sing songs that would make you feel like things was going to be better. They might not be good right then, but you knew they was going to be better. Continue reading “BFF Writer Wins Write Well Award” →

FREESTYLE WRITING – CONTEST RESULTS

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Many thanks to the 253 writers from Australia, Canada, England, Guyana, India, Ireland, Japan, Kenya, New Zealand, Ukraine, United States (and other undisclosed locations) who entered this writing contest!

Glen A. Bruce
Glenn A. Bruce

First Prize: Diane Donovan
Second Prize: Kirby Wright
Third Prize: Corinna Underwood
Honorable Mention: Helen Picard

Judge: Glenn A. Bruce
Scriptwriter, Novelist, Political Writer

 

FIRST PRIZE: The Strange Voyage of A Scarecrow, A Garden and Mr Crawfield by Diane Donovan
Judge’s comments:
I tend towards humor as, at the minimum, a device for relief. In this case, however, I found The Strange Voyage of A Scarecrow, A Garden and Mr Crawfield to be the cleverest writing of the lot. The premise is fresh and original, the execution fun and fairly precise, the use of language specific, and the tone whimsical. A good use of flash. Fun stuff.

The Strange Voyage of A Scarecrow, A Garden and Mr Crawfield
By Diane Donovan

Dear Mrs Crawfield,

I am writing this letter in my position as the Constable in Charge of Stapleton Police Station, and hope to set your mind at rest regarding the whereabouts of your husband, Harold.

You will recall that six days hence an earthquake of alarming severity occurred. This earthquake, while causing damage to many institutions, fortunately resulted in no loss of life.

Your husband was in his garden when the earthquake struck. He, along with his vegetable garden, various tools and a scarecrow, were shaken down a bank into the river that flows, very prettily, I’m sure, alongside your home. By some miracle the garden bed remained intact, conveying Harold rather as a raft would, rapidly downstream. The river being deep and wide took Harold and his garden through the countryside at a reasonable rate of knots (his words, dear Mrs Crawfield, and I hope they convey his excellent and undimmed sense of humour), resulting in many miles being covered over a period of four days. Continue reading “FREESTYLE WRITING – CONTEST RESULTS” →

ISSUE 6: JUNE 2015

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IMG_6658Old Jimmy
By Young Lee

Old Jimmy approaches the street corner, paper grocery bags weighing in each hand, and pushes the yellow walk button with his elbow. He has on cotton yoga pants, cut off at mid-calf, partially revealing a pair of great bass swimming upshore. The old black ink faded to a watery grey against his own scaly skin. At his sleeves, his lanky, fleshy arms have long been inked with mystical birds and masks like weathered totem poles. Inspired by past winters, hunting moose, in the South East Alaskan terrain. Ancient hieroglyphics decorate his forearms to commemorate his late wife. And the markings of Buddha, the All-Seeing Eye, the Hindu Ganesha, along with Christ seated on Jimmy’s torso, front and back. Tombstones of his past.

Old Jimmy pushes up his prescription glasses with the tip of his thumb, wiggles the blood back into his fingers. He feels faint from Bikram Yoga and hunger as the amber sun presses down on him. Through the asphalt mirage across the street, Old Jimmy discerns a young man in a vintage Jim Morrison tee shirt approaching the opposite corner. He had that shirt once, a long time ago. Remembers going to their concert. As Jimmy observes him, there is something else familiar about this young man. The manner of his walk. The way he jerks his head to throw back his long wavy bangs. Sweat runs down Jimmy’s back and he rests the bags down beside him as he rubs his tired eyes and scratches an old scar on his right cheek. Despite the heat, his fingers are cold and moist. He readjusts his glasses and studies the young man’s face as he’s retrieving something from his pocket. He regards the boy’s compulsive blinking. The exact habit he had before he got cataracts in both eyes. That arched nose reminds him of his father. And the same thin lips that purse when he sniffles. Then suddenly he notices the payphone that he entered nearly forty years ago. Continue reading “ISSUE 6: JUNE 2015” →

FREESTYLE WRITING CONTEST!

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IMG_5497September Freestyle Writing Contest
No Entry Fee!
Word limit: 600
Deadline: SEPTEMBER 15, 2015
Submissions: email to
brilliantflashfiction@gmail.com

Prizes:
50 euro first prize (or equivalent amount in your currency)
25 euro second prize
15 euro third prize Continue reading “FREESTYLE WRITING CONTEST!” →

EQUALITY- WRITING CONTEST RESULTS

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Liz Nugent
Liz Nugent

First prize: Helen McMahon
Second prize: Toni Minoza
Third prize: Tim Roberts

Contest Judge:
Liz Nugent, author of Unravelling Oliver

 

FIRST PRIZE: Only Water by Helen McMahon
Judge’s comments: This beautifully written piece illustrates how every day, we have the opportunity to make a more equal society, but we allow our prejudices to get in the way. The narrator gives the homeless character a nobility and grace which make his/her avoidance of him all the more poignant.

Only Water
By Helen McMahon

You, crying, your mouth wide open, a silent howl. Like a child, in shock, the moment after a fall, before the hurt comes.

You sit in a shuttered doorway on the busy side street, the lower half of your body swaddled in a sleeping bag, filthy and ripped. Then the sound comes, the wail—a high, thin sound, unmanly. It catches me off-guard. I look at you. I hesitate. Then, though fearful, I cross the street to you. I kneel down in front of you. You do not see me. I say: are you okay? You do not answer. I reach across and put my palm on your cheek. I say: you poor man.

Slowly, you come from that place of grief, focus on my face. I take your hand. I say: come with me. I lead you down the street, taking you by the arm. You shuffle like an old man though you are young. In defiance of the manager’s hard looks, I sit you at a table in a coffee shop. I buy a pot of tea. You are surprisingly fussy about it. You insist, though your hands shake, on pouring your own milk. Continue reading “EQUALITY- WRITING CONTEST RESULTS” →

ISSUE 5: MARCH 2015

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FIRST ANNIVERSARY EDITION

IMG_4538 DESERTER
By John S. Lewis

In Guiana, a little known country north of the equator, there lived a family of five, in a recently established housing scheme for the low–income bracket. The head of the family, David Anderson, was pacing the living room; as usual, searching for a means to keep the family fed, when he heard someone calling at the gate. Before David could get to one of the front windows he heard his son, Kwame, speaking to the person. As he’d been meandering in that direction, his mind recorded that his wife, Holly, was close to a window; yet she did not look out and answer.

“Good morning to you, sir. How may I help you?” he heard Kwame say.

The visitor looked about, confused. He was a graying, official type carrying a briefcase and obviously thinking himself much more important than he was. The man eventually glanced up, and saw Kwame sitting on a branch of the mango tree growing next to the gate. He also saw, by the look of alarm on his face, three or four wasp nests in the tree.

“Good morning, my boy. Aren’t you afraid those wasps will sting you?”

“No, I learned to share the tree with them. They help keep the tree in fruit throughout the year, so we let them stay. My name is Kwame Anderson. What is your name, and why are you here?”

Again, a fleeting look of confusion. “Is your father in?” Continue reading “ISSUE 5: MARCH 2015” →

PHOTO PROMPT – CONTEST RESULTS

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FIRST PRIZE WINNER of 100 EURO: 
Jessica Knauss

Photo by Theron Trowbridge
Laurie Scavo
Photo by Theron Trowbridge

Contest Judge
Laurie Scavo
Brilliant Flash Fiction
Webmaster & Photographer
Read more about Laurie HERE!

 

 

 

 

 

IMG_3120

FIRST PRIZE WINNER

Stairs to the Beach
By Jessica Knauss

Josie had the tunnel-staircase built because the children were fed up with the clifftop ocean view and no easy way to get to the beach below. To the children’s uproarious approval, I proposed a slide, so they could zip down onto the soft shore and get all their energy out swimming, building sandcastles, and trying to run on the tractionless surface of the sand. Then they would have to walk a mile or so around the cliff, back to the house, and I wouldn’t hear a peep out of them the rest of the day, I was sure. I could practice the viola or watch films that weren’t oriented toward children whenever I wanted.

But Josie insisted on the stairs to avoid long stretches of time when she couldn’t see her adopted dependents. In the beginning, it worked fairly well. All ten children loved hiking down the tunnel to be greeted by their own private piece of ocean, and by the time they trudged back up several hundred risers, all the sand had been knocked out of their crevices, so Roxanne didn’t have to do much cleanup in the foyer. But once they’d had time to tone their legs and exercise their lungs, they were shooting up that long staircase so fast, the sand had no time to dry, much less to let go of their sticky skin and sopping hair. Continue reading “PHOTO PROMPT – CONTEST RESULTS” →

EQUALITY WRITING COMPETITION!

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IMG_5298_1 No Entry Fee, Unlimited Entries
Send us your stories
written on the theme of EQUALITY
Word limit: 300
Deadline: JUNE 15, 2015
Submissions: email to brilliantflashfiction@gmail.com
Judge: LIZ NUGENT, Author of Unravelling Oliver
liznugent.ie
Prizes: 50 euro first prize (or equivalent amount in your currency)
25 euro second prize * 15 euro third prize
Winning stories will be published in
Brilliant Flash Fiction.

ISSUE 4: JANUARY 2015

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IMG_5190Gale
By Jemel Wilson

Her name was Gale, short for Nightingale. A badass black Caddy sitting on white walled tires. The grill looked like the car had on a fresh set of chrome braces. My grandfather purchased her with money he received from working on the old GM assembly lines. In those days it was hard to own much of anything, so when the neighborhood saw a black man in his twenties riding through the streets in a brand new black Cadillac, they knew you were doing damn well for yourself. It was a luxury that most didn’t get to experience. Other parts of the country were riding on public transportation unable to sit in the front due to the color of their skin.

My grandfather was the role model of the family and everyone listened when he spoke. Every sunny Saturday morning he’d wake my father to help him wash and wax the car. My grandfather would turn on the car radio and turn it up so that the neighbors could hear it on all sides. My father would unravel the hose, drag it out to the driveway and get the bucket of soapy water ready. Continue reading “ISSUE 4: JANUARY 2015” →

LIFE IS GOOD – CONTEST RESULTS

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First prize: Meaghan Hackinen
Second prize: Alan Morris
Third prize: Serena Molloy

Contest Judge
Ed Higgins, Ph.D.

Ed Higgins
Ed Higgins

Professor Emeritus of Writing and Literature Ed Higgins has been teaching at George Fox University for over four decades. His classes have covered poetry, the modern novel, world literature, science fiction and much more. While officially retired now, he still teaches part-time. He’s also published an extensive body of his own poetry.

 

 

Here are his winning selections and why:

First Prize: “Cycling North Cascades Highway” by Meaghan Hackinen

I like the tightness of this piece, every word counts and intensifies the story. The imagery, too, is finely tuned, believable, fulsome without overwhelming other story elements. The narrator/protagonist comes off with panache and I love her wry voice. The Kerouac allusions might put someone off, but I found them apt and they contributed to the protagonist’s character. The kinetic imagery of the story’s close zooms down that hill with exhilaration—and I’m not even a cyclist.

Second Prize: “Life is Good” by Alan Morris

While a bit put off by the title here, fearing saccharine, I was quickly hooked. The dialogue seems real, as does the situation. The setting is nicely done with economy that’s supportive of the story. And the story’s ending affirmation is touching without slipping into feel-good cliché. The last line nicely snaps the lid on the whole story scene that’s been itself nicely played out. Continue reading “LIFE IS GOOD – CONTEST RESULTS” →