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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 – 89 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 – 61 stories

Stories

“Too Much Information?” by Jeremy Stevens

Submitted to Contest #230

Doink! “Honey, I thought we agreed: no phones, right?”“Right, sorry.” She starts rooting through her bag.Breathe. This spring-break vacation is what you’ve worked for; this has been your focus since your first semester results, a 7% increase from last year’s end-of-course performance but still, pitifully, only 24% proficient. Breathe. Last year, you did not hold this position, so administration should be thrilled with the increase; but still, that nag: the State’s prediction of student growth, for “educator accountability,” yielded a -3.I ma...

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“Firebird and Mourning Dove” by Pocket Poet

Submitted to Contest #230

It was the nightshade of trees that seemed to crawl all around her. Like indigo snakes, black dragons that coiled like the world serpent in thick vines of rose fang thorns, she tripped and fell onto the black and blue shadows on the uprooted feet of toppled trees, fallen kings and crowns, flags dragging on the ground, she tripped and fell at the foot of their shadows, bent the knee and rose in dark, moonflowerless night. The nightshade shifted in the wind, slithered on the ground, writhing vines filled with water crawled up even in the nig...

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“Trying to Forget” by Lucy Aklin

Submitted to Contest #230

(Sensitive Content: Involves mention of blood, school shooting/violence, mention of death/dying, detailed panic attacks, and mental health issues.)“What do you feel when you start thinking like that?” The therapist asked, giving me a pointed glance and tapping her pen on her desk. I hate that sound. A long silence creeped between us. I tried to ignore the words she’d spoken, the tapping of the cheap ballpoint pen against the dark wood. I looked at the two sad, bland, colorless pillows on my left side, sitting with me on the formal gray...

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“Motor Maniac: Writer Wanted” by Matthew Gordon

Submitted to Contest #230

Today, Doug is hoping to land the job of his dreams that he never expected. Sitting at an ornate desk in front of Mr. Whitmer, Doug finds himself on edge. Under the desk sweaty hands grip blue jeans, holding tight. Doug knows he’s under qualified, but he applied anyway, and got the interview! A writer for a large magazine, Motor Maniac. This job would set him and his family up, and allow them to raise their new child the way they want. Enough money, time after work and working from home. His current job with Mr....

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“Obsession Rage” by Keyetta Harris

Submitted to Contest #230

Shying away from the broken mirror whispering over and over, “little girls should be seen and not heard.They should be seen and not heard. I pause. They should be,” I picked up the roses off of the dresser and threw them to the floor. They should be heard I screamed out! The dresser was covered with fragments of broken glass. Makeup powder everywhere. The room, the dresser, and the floor looked like a thief burglarized the place. “I am sorry daddy I did it again,” softly saying it over and over, “I did it again. Like a broken...

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“Digesting the Architecture” by Edward Brown

Submitted to Contest #230

Landon stood in the corner of the den, a large, bright airy room with contemporary leather sofa, two similar chairs and end tables. The tables appeared more like space vehicles except for the coasters, lamp (also a weirdly shaped object) and a Sports Illustrated. Everything had a place and a place for everything, he thought. He’d been in rooms, and houses like this, but that didn’t mean he knew how to act. He’d learned from living in Mt. Hebron that Southerners, of which he was both one by birth and not one by temperament, were judged quickl...

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“The Girl named Daughter” by Elena Franzese

Submitted to Contest #230

The soft hum of the dishwasher was my only company, muted by the separating wall between me and the kitchen as I scrutinized the supply closet in front of me. Fallen brooms and empty bottles scattered at my feet, the offending supplies offering little more than a plop against the floor when I kicked it. “Father…” I growled, soft steps and the creaking of the bathroom door barely recognizable over my own muttering. Bent over the mess of spilled bottles and broken brooms, a soft, barely- there touch grazes across my neck, sending shiv...

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“MOTHS” by Kajsa Ohman

Submitted to Contest #230

MOTHS Ben walks in the night—with the night, as with a friend. The moths don’t bother Ben, though they cloud the streetlights like kinetic haloes. Stray dogs, broken glass, cigarette butts don’t bother him, nor the tatters of paper that blow against his pant legs and cling there. Nothing bothers Ben. Not even the children who smoke and inject in shadowed doorways. Ben’s heart is light as a feather tonight. If he died right now, the guardian at the holy gate would put his heart in one pan and a feather in the other and fi...

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“Crossroads in the City Light” by Charlie Christmann

Submitted to Contest #230

Standing on the balcony, Clara was enveloped by the city's pulsating rhythm. The shimmering lights below wove a tapestry of life, each flicker telling a story. The night air was cool against her skin, carrying the distant hum of traffic and the soft whisper of a breeze that rustled her hair. The scent of rain lingered, a fresh reminder of the day’s downpour, mingling with the faint aroma of jasmine from a nearby balcony. It was a night that commanded introspection, not just anticipation for her impending promotion.But tonight, as she peered ...

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“The Last Conversation” by Charlotte Sheffield

Submitted to Contest #230

TW: substance abuse, mental health, suicide The music had completely faded behind Evelyn’s retching. She sucked in air, hoping the worst of it was over. The beer she had spilled when she ran into the bathroom soaked through her shoes. She untangled her legs from underneath her. She tugged at her pink sequined dress to try and get it back down over her hips. The dragonfly that had made its home in the bathroom flew by her face and she attempted to swat it away. “This again?” Evelyn turned to see Mia standing at the door, shaking her head. ...

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“Receptions ” by Michelle Itehua Salas

Submitted to Contest #230

“Hi there! Name something that stays in pieces no matter how often you put it together.” I hadn't even heard the Cutlass Cierra pull up behind me as I was attempting to fish the lone circular out of my mailbox while avoiding the colony of red ants inside waving their antennae with interest in the direction of my fingers. The tiny telltale windows of cataract surgery scintillated through the lenses of her gold framed eyeglasses as my elderly neighbor regarded me turn the riddle over in my mind. While the riddle had me moment...

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“Sleep, Kells” by Marie Cataleya Edal

Submitted to Contest #230

N: You’ve been dreaming for a while; the birds are starting to leave their hiding places. K: ...mmmwhat? N: They’re going to start looking for us soon – well you, not me. K: …what happened? N: … K: …Hello? N: Yes. Hello. K: Who are you? N: An odd final question. I thought you at least knew me better than that. K: What’s going on? I can’t see a thing. N: Neither can I. K: Where am I? N: …That’s difficult to explain. K: This doesn’t make sense. I… where’s the lake? N: …the lake? K: I... Was that real? N: What are you saying? K: I don’t k...

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“Kids Clotes” by Brandon Zarycki

Submitted to Contest #230

Sandra Thomas stood behind the front counter and watched the man enter the store. The man Sandra would be forced to guess was probably in his late twenties, maybe early thirties a couple of hours from now. And when really pressed Sandra would say, “Yeah, twenty-eight could be about right.” But at the time this was just another person coming into the store carrying a large cardboard box. ‘Baby clothes’, is actually the only thing Sandra can remember thinking about when seeing this ‘five-foot nine, five-foot ten’ man walking towards her. ‘He w...

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“The Dead Man” by Kathrine J. N. Rajalingam

Submitted to Contest #230

Confusion radiated in me as I sat in the car, my impatience growing as I waited for the people to leave. Despite my intentions to be far away from here by now, I found myself unable to resist the temptation to see the dead man. With each passing moment, the funeral parlor grew more crowded as people continued to enter. I would rather steer clear of all these people attending the wake. I ignited the car engine with a turn of the key, which roared to life. Just as I was about to drive away, my plan was interrupted by a sudden knock on the wind...

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“Wisdom From Bookclub” by Andrea Corwin

Submitted to Contest #230

This is a work of fiction based on real events, and the characters are made up of conglomerations of several people. There are references to some sexual acts which may be offensive to some. Vonnie met new women by joining the book club in her new town. Mary – ah, memorable Mary who turned thirty-eight when Vonnie was twenty-six. The book club was at Mary’s house on that birthday. Mary opened the door, welcoming everyone, with “Come in! Let’s hurry with the discussion because today I am thirty-eight. I’m told this is my sexual peak, and ...

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$250

Prize money

360

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!

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