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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

“Unjust Desserts” by Tom Bentley

Submitted to Contest #230

Clive delicately set the tea strainer on the saucer. He stared abstractedly at the intricate floral patterns on the cup. It was a piece from the 18th-century Meissen royal porcelain manufacture; it had been in his family for five generations. Its finely wrought fluted sides looked incongruous against the drab, dull wood of the rickety table.             Clive held his face in his hands, the cords of his neck taut, his hair unkempt. He hadn't slept for thirty hours. Since he had ta...

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“The School Bus” by Annie Blackwell

Submitted to Contest #230

The bus stalled as it struggled up Malabar Hill. We could walk to school faster. And sometimes we did, when the bus, awaiting retirement, refused to restart. I didn’t like walking, but it offered good thinking time. I liked thinking, then and now. Making memories and recalling them. Snapshots stored on previously blank pages. Perhaps, slides, waiting to be viewed. Sepia exposures. A projected spiral of time. Nineteen small bodies clamber down overly steep steps, exiting the bus, emerging onto the verge and heading, in a snaking line, up the ...

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“Knocked Into Next Week” by Michael Jefferson

Submitted to Contest #230

Greg Van Fleet drifts in and out of consciousness. “His helmet is split in half,” a voice says. “He’s lucky his head isn’t in the same condition,” Head Coach Steele Stoneman replies. “Guess we’ll get the money for padded goalposts now.” Greg tries to stand but can’t move. He gasps for air. His heart pounds and Greg tries to remember how he wound up flat on his back… Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow High School hasn’t scored a point in two weeks, which means Greg, the team’s kicker, and third-string end hasn’t played at all, while his best...

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“New Year, New Beers, New Chairs” by Sharon Falduto

Submitted to Contest #230

“I’m excited to check out the remodel,” Angie told Sarah. “They got new chairs.” The college women were driving to Angie’s hometown, an hour away from their dorm. “I wonder what else they changed?” Angie pondered. “Did they upgrade the whole menu, or just get a new air fryer?” “Are new chairs a huge draw?” “Oh, yeah. The old chairs were upholstered in linoleum stripped from mobile home kitchens.” “That’s weirdly specific, Ang.” Angie parked in front of a new neon sign touting the name  “Symposium” and a large banner advertising, “...

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“Mastering all trades” by Omar Ayadi

Submitted to Contest #230

 I first heard of it as a saying, then as a myth . Old tales of blues men , crossroads and hell hounds. Tales of greed, desperation, and unholy offerings. While some believed in such things, I couldn’t begin to consider it. Then as time went by, I started to hear strange stories, here and there, reports of overnight success, great sudden luck, or once unshakeable obstacles miraculously vanishing. But again, I always chalked it up to coincidence, human willpower and admirable persistence.If you would know ten people and if...

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“The Monster of Time” by Amalee Bowen

Submitted to Contest #230

(Trigger Warning: Contains mention of death due to neglect) They say clocks used to make a sound. An incessant ticking marking the passing of time. Our clocks today are more accurate, I think. Time marked only by a steady changing of numbers, silently progressing until you suddenly realize it has all slipped away.  These days, everything changes in a blink of an eye. Empires rising and falling like the soundwaves of a song, newly made and newly destroyed with each new wave of technology. Life is a frantic hum and we all race to keep...

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“The Depths We Go” by Kristina Raynor

Submitted to Contest #230

Nina could hear her daughter’s breath. It had been three minutes since the rescue team was alerted of the catastrophic failure. Another fifteen minutes before they’d reach the submersible. She shouldn’t be alive right now. She knew the type of impact she’d experienced should have crushed her instantly, but here she was, somewhere between life and death. Everything felt like a dream as she talked to her daughter through the emergency radio. “You have to stay awake.” Lynn tried to keep her voice steady as the rain continued to beat against her...

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“Mama's Kitchen” by Lola LaForge

Submitted to Contest #230

The short scene on the movie she had been watching inexplicably and instantly lifted her depressive mood. It took her a few minutes to process how the image of the farmhouse kitchen had snapped her out of the dark feeling she'd carried all day and propelled her into a sense of purpose. The kitchen was the view in the background of the scene in which the main character in the foreground was sitting in a chair in an adjacent room watching a television program. The maple branches outside the curtained window in the scene casted moving shadows a...

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“The Wakeup Call” by Tessa Hull

Submitted to Contest #230

TW: Alcohol abuse, familial harm Someone hammering on the front door at this time of night could hardly bring good news. I catch sight of my dishevelled reflection as I drag my arms through my dressing gown, feeling embarrassed for a moment at the prospect of someone seeing me in such a tatty robe. I run my hands through my hair as if that will make a difference to my unkemptness, and shiver in the wintery cold. The heat of my body still lingers on my mattress, whispering for me to return, to pull the duvet over my head and ignore t...

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“Hello-Goodbye-Hello” by Angela Kirby

Submitted to Contest #230

Whispers tickled Quinn’s ears as she turned the page of her magazine. The buzz of voices grew louder than the hiss of the café’s steam wands. “I can’t believe it’s him.” “He’s so much taller in person.” “Should I go ask for a picture?” Quinn’s curiosity won out as the whispering around her reached a fever pitch. As she looked up, her normally icy cool palms turned tacky with heat as she spotted the source of energy radiating through the café. Her palms prickled as they stuck to the glossy magazine pages. She feared if she lifted her hand...

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“Tevoro” by Brad Chessum

Submitted to Contest #230

A short walk along the sugar fine sands brought me to a log structure with a roof fashioned of roughly plaited coconut leaves. In chalk, on a broken sandwich board, read ‘Lucious breakfasts and Loaded cocktails.’ It was a hot day, as it always is in Fiji, so I stooped under the hanging leaves and took a seat. The breeze off the Pacific gave much respite from the morning heat, I shut my eyes, finding the peace I’d come for. “Bula!” A man rushed in, stumbling on a plastic chair shouting the Fijian greeting. The linen shirt he wore looked like ...

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“People in the Sun” by Jake Scott

Submitted to Contest #230

“You know they’re all using it on their papers,” I said to Isabelle as we strolled down the main corridor of the National Portrait Gallery in Washington D.C. “I mean, I don’t blame them, but it’s still plagiarism, isn’t it?” On our right was a painting by Edward Hopper, People in the Sun. I hadn’t seen it before. I gazed into the frame, attracted by the sharp, brilliant colors. It depicted five figures in reclining chairs, gazing across a wheat field towards purple-blue mountains.“You think A.I. will change everything?” I asked, staring into...

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“Barefoot” by Mei Wu

Submitted to Contest #230

On Skype, Mom’s eyes were closing, her drooping eyelids covered by silvery strands of loose hair.  She was slipping into a doze.   “Tell me about the Four-Cleanse, Mom.” I brought up the “Four-Cleanse,” and her eyes shot open in a blast of energy. Mom came back. “Ahh, I had just graduated, fresh from medical school. Who could imagine I got sent to the country, and for what? Walking barefoot on the field!  I was from Shanghai. ” Mom knitted her brows when barefoot was mentioned, as though walking barefoot wa...

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“Bridging Horizons: A Journey of Ambition and Identity” by George Ogenah Jr.

Submitted to Contest #230

George Ogenah Jr. December 29, 2023 In a Flash Bridging Horizons: A Journey of Ambition and Identity In the lively coastal city of Lynn, Massachusetts, George found himself at a crossroads in his life. It felt like a warm hug, the familiar streets and the waves splashing on the shoreline. Despite that, a persistent yearning gnawed at him—a longing for more achievement and fulfillment. "I am strong in mind and body," George declared, gazing at the cityscape that he knew like the back of his hands. The historic architecture and cultural vi...

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“Am I Here?” by Bernadette Beauchamp

Submitted to Contest #230

Darkness engulfed the men in front of me to the point that all I heard were silhouettes chattering, only pausing to take quick breaths, and get back to the greatest issue at hand. The smartest men I knew were chattering away. Three problem solvers in front of me and yet, they felt no need to deal with our lack of light, now that the sun was making its exit. Of course, they wouldn't because it was always Sarah who remembered to put on the porch lights. She would always add twinkle lights with colors that matched the season for some extra warm...

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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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