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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#230: In a Flash

I’ve been reading a lot of flash fiction recently. It’s a great format for close study, as its compression forces writers to question the function of every sentence.


Since there are many lessons to be learned from reading, writing, and thinking about flash fiction, I thought we could make it the focus of this week’s contest. To be clear, this contest accepts stories between 1,000 and 3,000 words, but this week, I’m inviting you to try and stay as close to the lower limit as you can. Our usual word count range is still the official guideline, and stories that are closer to 3,000 words will not be disqualified — but I hope that with flash stories in mind, you’ll feel inspired to be as economical with language as possible. 


Not sure how to begin? Check out our best tips for writing flash fiction.

This week's prompts

Write a story framed by a single scene: something happens, a flashback or inner monologue intervenes, and then the story ends with the rest of the original scene.

Narrative – 90 stories

Write a story in which a character achieves a new level of clarity about how they’re really feeling.

Character – 57 stories

Start your story with someone uttering a very strange sentence.

Dialogue – 52 stories

Write a story that hides something from its reader until the very end.

Mystery – 101 stories

Write a story in the form of a list.

Narrative – 62 stories

Stories

“To the American Republic of Mars” by Ben LeBlanc

Submitted to Contest #230

GOVERNMENT DISPATCH: TOP SECRETFile No. 14575Coded messageEnter safe key...decoding....Subject: State of the United States of AmericaTo: The Leaders of the American Republic of Mars Today marks one week since the United States fell to the invaders. Yesterday, the former President of the United States opened the airlock without a spacesuit. As Chief Expert of the Republic (I built this place) I will take the oath of office tomorrow. All my supporters are invited.Rest assured, my administration is actively exploring ways to respond to the...

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“The First Meeting” by Steven Lebowski

Submitted to Contest #230

“One more time, run me through it boss, real serious and focused like. Pretend I’m him.” “Are we serious with this guy?” A static disrupted voice buzzed from the flickering hologram standing beside them. ‘Boss’ pressed a button on his wristpad and the hologram flicked out. “Thanks,” winked Bolace. “Now, let me hear it.” Marzen, ‘boss,’ took a deep breath, stood up straight, and began. “The Agency is stocked bottom to top floor with equipment in every room, and I have specs on every piece. “I3s: The entire building is under surveillanc...

2 comments 2
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“The Last Picnic” by Matt Ward

Submitted to Contest #230

The Last Picnic            It was a beautiful day in early September. The kind of day his late father called a Glory Day, the requirements of which were a deep blue sky and, if there were any clouds at all, they had to be the soft, very white, billowy type. And the temperature neither too hot, nor too cool. Perfect picnic weather.            And a picnic was just what he had planned for himself and his sweetheart-wife of 47 years.&...

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“Hell wasn't real.” by Robert Hall

Submitted to Contest #230

I vividly saw hell and truly believed if I stopped breathing, I’d be there. Forever. I had two days off work and a friend, Joe, asked me if I would be interested in buying a four-finger bag of pure PCP from the chemist who made it, for one hundred dollars. This is a horse tranquilizer. Sure, why not? I had no idea.  After what occurred over the next several days, I could say this. Comparing LSD to PCP, LSD is a shot of beer, and PCP is a fifth of whiskey. PCP is one of the most absolutely horrible drugs on the face of the planet. I'...

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“Drenched in Remorse” by Kevin RRW

Submitted to Contest #230

Rain pummels the dark, cold streets, as a man of small stature hails a cab on a Friday night after his Wall Street office hours. He’s one whistle short of three cars that other passengers intercept. With his usual limo driver under the weather, Dyson is at the mercy of the common taxi service.Raindrops dampen the finely tailored suit beneath his soaked cashmere overcoat. This wells up the need for selfish action. Dyson shoves an elderly woman clutching grocery bags into a puddle. His mind racing with distracting thoughts, he slides into the ...

3 comments 3
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“The Eternal Soldier” by Len Rely

Submitted to Contest #230

 In a temporary mess hall in Mille, France on September 1st 1944, it seemed that every table belonged to a different nation. General William “Dark Horse” Ramsay (who was then a Brigadier) was seated in the back, and would remark in his autobiography this date and location. Also present was a young Vasco Remy with his fellow guerrillas, future international trainer in irregular warfare whose memoirs from Spain are now a bestseller; but at the time Gen. Ramsay honestly did not know who these men were. Generals did not often see hand-to-ha...

3 comments 3
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“Happy Meal” by Alex Burns

Submitted to Contest #230

HAPPY MEAL  It’s only five o’clock in the evening, but it’s dark already. Rain lashes down horizontally. It is the kind of day in the city that turns people into cows, herding together under bus stops, shop entrances, anywhere that might offer respite. It gives you a sense of superiority to march past their blurry figures, as they cower from the rain, with your eyes wet and squinting.  You have been walking for a while. You cannot remember the last time you stopped. Not just today, but for a long time. If you stop, you’re afraid yo...

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“THAT NIGHT IT HAPPENED” by Vijay Likhite

Submitted to Contest #230

THAT NIGHT IT HAPPENED. I am Dagadu, working as domestic help with Pendse family for the last 20-25 years. The three senior brothers had two sons and a daughter each. I have witnessed the next generation growing up, getting their degrees and settling in their professions. The eldest of them, Mohan aged 28 was a C.A. The younger three pursued I.T. Engineering. Prabhakar Kaka’s son Sandeep earned his doctorate recently in Space Technology and had got a posting in NASA in Houston, USA. The younger lot planned a party in the bungalow built ...

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“A Meeting Upon a Bridge” by Abigail Stallings

Submitted to Contest #230

Content/Trigger Warning: Contains language some may find offensive; Self-harm briefly mentioned. The salty drops of water from my eyes fall to join the flowing water of the river below me. How stereotypical, crying over a man. I silently scold myself and wipe my eyes with my coat sleeve. You get five more minutes up here to pull yourself together, then you need to get down. My feet dangle over the edge of the bridge as I watch the lazily flowing water beneath me. The sun is saying its last goodbyes to the world and will soon disappear over...

4 comments 4
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“Too Little, Too Late” by Sidney Boni

Submitted to Contest #230

 The man stared down at me, his eyes cold. Hard. I gazed back; my teeth bared in a grin or grimace—I couldn't tell which, only that my mouth was open. His wasn't. It was a flat line under those cold, distant, lifeless eyes. Why did those matter to me so much? It was absurd that these were the things I focused on compared to the pain surging through my legs, the bone-deep fatigue in my arms, and the burning in my chest. Especially compared to the gun in his hand. The gun in my face. "You played hard," he said as if that meant anything ...

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“ "Harmony in the Meadow."” by Brian Hastie

Submitted to Contest #230

The antique clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, its rhythmic sound echoing via the dimly lit room. Sarah sat at the tired table, her trembling fingers clutching a dwindled letter. The phrases on the paper danced before her eyes, transporting her again to a time forgotten. As the memories flooded in, she felt herself standing in a sunlit meadow, the fragrance of wildflowers filling the air. A more youthful model of herself laughed, her carefree spirit obtrusive in every step. In the space, an acquainted discern approached – the one w...

3 comments 3
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“The Xenon Insurgency ” by Ian T. Smyth

Submitted to Contest #230

“The Emperor is here?” He asked, nervously.  “Yes, and he’s most displeased.” Brian paced through the room, calculating his next steps.  “I made a call - a call based off the information I had at the time - what does he think I should have done instead?” Cheyenne blinked; her steely-blue eyes penetrating Brian. “Whatever it is, he feels as though he needs to tell you it in the flesh.” “If this flesh is still left standing,” Brian retorted.  Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, but it was useless for the ones who knoc...

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“Southern Snow” by Terri Onderdonk

Submitted to Contest #230

SOUTHERN SNOW Shan stared mindlessly out of the living room window when large white flakes began falling from the sky. That couldn’t be snow! It never, well almost never, snowed here. When snow was even a consideration there was a ridiculous amount of news coverage, but there hadn’t been any. This was oddly surreal. Lost in thought, Shan mindlessly watched the white flakes fall when shaken alert by JC’s squeals of excitement. When he saw what Shan saw he burst out the door to see for himself. After just a few minutes JC bursts back in th...

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“Her Mother's Daughter” by Ann Forcier

Submitted to Contest #230

From behind a live oak, Marie watched Maman's shoulders shake, her head in her hands, mucus dripping through her fingertips. Marie's stomach clenched as she felt the prickle at the back of her neck. Maman doesn't cry. Maman raged, laughed, danced. She scolded. For Marie's courses, Maman taught her to use dried Spanish moss or rags from clothes they could no longer mend. She fed eighteen people from a pound of rice and fish from the Savannah River. Round the night fire outside their makeshift cabin, Maman told stories that filled Marie and ...

4 comments 4
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“The Name” by Ana M

Submitted to Contest #230

In the air, the scent of September hung over a small European village at the beginning of the fourth decade of the twentieth century. Ray was in the church, holding his tiny niece, barely a month old, in his arms. It was her christening, and he had the honor of being her godfather and choosing her name. Although he had been confident in his choice just moments ago, now, looking into the baby's blue eyes, he was questioning his decision.The priest was busy with the final preparations for the baptism ceremony. Ray glanced at his brother and si...

4 comments 4
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$250

Prize money

362

Contest entries

108

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Dec 29, 2023 EST

Won by Ethan Zimmerman 🏆

Title: The Lop-it-off-a-me List

Submissions must be between 1,000 - 3,000 words and will be approved and published on Reedsy Prompts within 7 days of the contest closing.

Read the full terms & conditions or check out the FAQ if you have any questions!

Prompts | Many Hands | 2024-09

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