First : What's that son.You've entered a fast friction competition. By Mark Robinson, Bristol.
Second : Prison of my own making By Zoe Critchley, Bristol
Third : Adonis By Lindsay Woodward, Rugby
Congratulations and well done to you and all other 120 entrants
FLASH FICTION 2019 WINNERS
Read the winning entries in our Flash Fiction competition 2019
First Prize Mark Robinson, Bristol
‘What’s that son? You’ve entered a fast friction competition?’
‘What do you mean, Walter tripped?’ asked dad.
Andrew face palmed as he held the phone. ‘No, dad, –’
‘I saw him this morning,’ dad continued. ‘He was walking around without any problems.’
‘Not Walter, dad, water! Water dripped, from the new shower. All night long.’
‘Walter tripped in the shower? Oh dear. Is he okay?’
Andrew sighed. Dad’s hearing was getting worse. ‘Yes, he’s fine. No harm done.’
‘Ah, good. Here, talking of showers, how’s the one I fitted at yours last week?’
Second Prize to Zoe Critchley, Bristol
Prison of My Own Making
Water dripped from above and rolled uncomfortably down my neck. Goosebumps trailed in its wake and I shivered uncontrollably. I had been here for a week now. It felt like much longer.
I had been made to walk for miles. My whole body ached. I could not remember the last time I had slept properly, or what it felt like to be clean and warm. I was miserable, hurting, hungry, tired, freezing, dirty; suffering.
More water found its way through the leaking canvas of the tent and landed on my head.
I truly hated camping.
Third Prize to Lindsay Woodward, Rugby
I was no longer just fanning myself from the heat of the sun. The Adonis before me was ramping my temperature up. The waves appeared to move aside as he strode out of the sea. They too seemed in awe of him.
He swept his wet hair away as his eyes became locked with mine. My heart pounded as he approached my sunbed.
Water dripped from his fingers on to my hot skin, tingling me with excitement.
‘All right, chicken?’ he said, in a strangely high pitched voice. ‘You’re well fit, you are.’
Oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers.
No local prize was awarded this year.
The short listed stories, in no particular order, are :-
Unthinkable by Deanna Allan
Adonis by Lindsay Woodward
Twiddle by Anne Warburton
Relief at Last by Kristian Rose
Water Torture by Mark Robinson
Prison of my own making by Zoe Critchley
What's that Son? You've entered a Fast Friction Competition? by Mark Robinson
Good luck to all short listed competitors. The winner and runners up will be announced on October 20th
2019 - "WATER DRIPPED"
Write a 100 word story in any style and on any topic that includes the words " water dripped". It can appear anywhere in the story - the possibilities are endless!
RULES AND CONDITIONS
1. The competition is open to anyone who is 16 years and over.
2. The competition is for an original work of fiction no longer than 100 words in length. Any title must be included in the word count. Hyphenated words count as one word.
3. The work must contain the words: "water dripped”.
4. The work must be previously unpublished and not be simultaneously entered into any other competition. It must be the work of the person entering the competition.
5. Closing date September 21st, 2019 at 12 noon.
6. The entry fee is £2 per story. Competitors may enter as many stories as they wish. Up to six stories may be entered for £8.
7. Entries can be made electronically or in hard copy. Entries are not returnable.
8. The judges' decision is final. Judges will not enter into any discussion.
9. A short list will be published on Saturday October 12th, 2019.
10. The overall winner and runners up will be announced at the Southam Book Festival on October 20th, 2019 and listed on the Festival social media page.
11. There will also be a local winner whose home address is in post code areas CV47 and CV33.
12. The winning entry will be published in the Southam Advertiser.
13. Submission of work will be taken as acceptance of rules and conditions.
14. Copyright of each story remains with the author, but Southam Book Festival reserves the right to publish a selection of the stories at some point during the or after the Book Festival
HOW TO ENTER
Choose the £2 or £8 PayPal button below - £2 for each story or £8 for up to 6 stories.
Email your story or stories to email@example.com.
Please put “Flash Fiction Comp” in the subject box.
In the email please give details of your name, address (including postcode), the name of your story/stories and your PayPal transaction number.
Your story should be included as an attachment. If you are submitting more than one story, please use a separate attachment for each story.
Post or deliver your entry to: Flash Fiction Competition, The Graham Adams Centre, St James Rd, Southam, CV47 0LY
Entries must be legibly handwritten or typed on one side of A4 paper.
Entries must be accompanied by a cover sheet which gives the title of the story/stories, competitor's name and address ( including post code) also email address if available.
Postal entries should be accompanied by a cheque to cover the entry fee.
Hand delivered entries may pay the entry fee by cheque or cash (which should be placed in a clearly marked envelope)
Cheques should be made payable to Southam Church and Community Project Ltd
Your story should be included as a separate sheet. If you are submitting more than one story, please use separate sheets for each story.
FLASH FICTION COMPETITION
2018 - "THE DOOR SLAMMED"
We had an amazing start to our 100 WORDS competition at our first festival. We received over 80 entries from all four corners of the world, with topics ranging from holidaying in foreign lands, to mortifying eye tests. There was no restriction on style or content, only that it was no more than 100 words and the phrase "the door slammed" had to appear in it.
Winning and runner up entries were announced at the Festival and the winning entry was also published in the Southam Advertiser late last year.
We'd like to thank Reynolds Insurance, TM &JM Grey and Writers Magazine for sponsoring the competition.
Molly’s Dream Holiday, by Christine Eddison
Christmas in Mombasa! Sweat gathers on my lip and prickles my armpits.Musky pawpaw and sweet jasmine scent the air, noisy with cicadas and hummingbirds.
Tomorrow I’ll ride the glass-bottomed boat to the reef and gaze covetously towards exotic Zanzibar. Back at harbour, I’ll admire the busy throngs of white-garbed women and listen to the mesmeric murmur of the muezzin.
The door slammed. ‘Morning, Molly. Myra here. Time to get you dressed.’ I startle as my bed hoist begins its creaking grind. I sense the wheelchair waiting to transport me towards another sightless helping of daytime television.
JOINT SECOND PLACE
Yo-Yo, by Adam Stewart
Adam was the greatest. What that man couldn’t do with a yo-yo wasn’t worth doing. At the height of his powers he performed his own brand of yo-yo magic to sell out arenas all over Warwickshire. He was a God and his legend was told in school playgrounds from Stockton to Stratford.
As the fame and fortune rolled in, Adam could even afford to buy his dream car. Then, all too quickly, it ended.
“That’s my car” he yelled.
He reached out, the door slammed. His index finger fell to the floor. It was all over for Adam.
Supernova, by Charles Adey
Fifteen thousand light years from Earth, a star collapsed. Gravity intensified, crushing the surface inwards towards a point of infinite density, bending light rays and muting all noise into absolute black nothingness. Unable to collapse further, time reversed itself, and everything the star ever was exploded into white and pink eternity, stretching for millions of miles in every direction. I watched the tiny speck of light from my bedroom window, a little brighter than the others. A breeze came through the house and behind me the door slammed, bringing me back to planet Earth.
The Eye Test, by Mairead Rawal
Hannah sat and waited. It’s just an eye test, she reassured herself. The ophthalmologist
whipped into the room, the door slammed behind him, making her jump.
‘Good morning, Mrs Smith’, and they began.
It was proceeding smoothly until she was asked to read the letters chart. First line; easy.
Second line; trickier. The third line was indistinct – C, O, C and… was that a K? It couldn’t be! Hannah broke out in a cold sweat. He was waiting.
The K hung there. Nobody spoke. She couldn’t quite meet the ophthalmologist’s eye.
‘R, Mrs Smith, R.’