UPDATED WITH WINNER - LitReactor's Flash Fiction Smackdown: April (Poetry Month) Edition

Flash fiction: A style of fictional literature marked by extreme brevity.
Welcome to LitReactor's Flash Fiction Smackdown, a monthly bout of writing prowess.
How It Works
We give you inspiration in the form of a picture, poem, video, or similar. You write a flash fiction piece using the inspiration we gave you. Put your entry in the comments section. One winner will be picked and awarded a prize.
The Rules
- 30 words. You can write less, but not more.
- It can be any genre.
- Give it a title. Please keep it to 10 words or less.
- We're not exactly shy, but let's stay away from senseless racism or violence.
- One entry per person.
- Editing your entry after you submit it is permitted.
- LitReactor staffers can't win, but are encouraged to participate.
- All stories submitted on or before April 29 will be considered. We'll run the winner on April 30.
This Month's Prize
This month's winner will get a copy of The New Black: A Neo-Noir Anthology edited by LitReactor columnist and instructor, Richard Thomas, and published by Dark House Press. This anthology also contains stories by LitReactees: Stephen Graham Jones, Nik Korpon, Craig Clevenger, Paul Tremblay, and Vanessa Veselka. Here's some reviews that oughta get you excited:
The New Black ought to be the New High Standard for dark fiction anthologies. It's loaded with intelligence and talent. Every one of the pieces in this extraordinary compilation is worthy of your full attention.
—Jack Ketchum
The New Black is a great collection of incredibly unique fiction. I honestly liked every story in here, and I usually don’t say that about an anthology. It was also nice to encounter so many authors with whom I was unfamiliar. A strong compilation of talent. Very strong.
—John Boden, Shock Totem Productions
There's depth to darkness, a richness waiting for those who have the patience to let their vision adjust to it. Rembrandt knew that; it's there in the voluminous shadows that wrap around the figures in his paintings. So did Poe: it's the note sounding underneath the stories his narrators tell us. And so do the writers Richard Thomas has assembled for The New Black. At this point in our shared history, it's no secret that those things closest to us, our family, our memory, may be full of night. What is remarkable is what the writers in this book succeed in telling us about that darkness, what shapes they discern within it. A showcase of some of the most exciting writers at work today, The New Black is not to be missed.
— John Langan, The Wide, Carnivorous Sky and Other Monstrous Geographies
If you aren't sure what Neo-Noir is, check out Richard Thomas' primer Storyville: What is Neo-Noir Fiction?
Your Inspiration
Well, it's National Poetry Month, so let's combine the concept of Neo-Noir and Poetry to create a challenging contest. I found an interesting writing assignment shared by John S. O'Connor on The Poetry Foundation website. Below is an adaptation of the lesson he used for his Literature and Film class.
1) Brainstrom 50 concrete nouns
2) Write down 10 "tough guy/girl" lines.
3) Use that word pool to write a 30-word poem
4) Avoid verbs and adjectives (but small words, such as articles and prepositions are ok.)
5) Ignore rules 1-4 and write a 30-word Noir Poem that knocks my socks off.
Now get writing!
And the Winner is ...Alan H Jordan
Only 16 entries, and this may have been one of the hardest Flash Fiction Smackdowns to judge yet! I enjoyed Mr. Jordan's allusion to the radio detective at the end of this poem. I may be a bit biased, though, because I actually got to meet the sound effects guy and voice actors when my childhood choir performed on A Prarie Home Companion back in the 90s. Yes, I did just make this about myself. But enough about me; here's the winning poem:
Bitter Almonds are not Twinkies
A detective
struggles each week to
survive and prosper.
Doomed to the dark
grey side of life and
relationships
Guy, as he is known
on NPR
makes me smile.
You Might Also Like...
To leave a comment
Comments
On the way down,
I felt like a clown,
Turned a smile to a frown,
Lost all renown,
On the way down.
Unrequited Fury
Maggots eat the lining of my eyes.
I go blind.
I beg them to eat my heart.
Near-Noir
Powder burns and lipstick
Beneath my snub nose every breath
Is a sepia toned ending
Cut short
Life reflected in translucent narcotic puddles
Straight no chaser.
It was a foggy, full moon night…
An empty night
a thriller night
and though I wanted
to retreat inside,
I had to finish
my cigarette,
which at this very
moment, kept me
from going insane.
WHO CARES ABOUT HELL WHEN YOU BURN ON EARTH
A match not for cigarettes
but sins
better left unknown.
Gumshoe's for solving
mysteries, not justice
that is better ash.
Odorous gas,
the crook asks
"What you gonna do
tough..."
Caught Cheating
Dark acts in light rooms
Hot bullets and hard feelings
Warm bodies to cold meat
Impartial system for fair judgement
Dark acts in light rooms
No translation
Saudade, em mim paire
Para eu lembrar do passado
Com meu amor ao lado
Saudade is a desire
That burns inside
This little widow bride
Handicapping
Kid without thumbs
sits, staring down double-barreled
Army recruiter eyes.
“Son, you need five
fingers to pull triggers,”
the bastard oozes
through chew-stained lips.
Echo of the gunshot
disagrees.
Ants in the Apiary
Hid in hex
Honey-hate
Have it your way
Baby's gone
Baby's breath is blasted
Boo hoo, baby girl
Make it to Mexico
Maybe in time for Cinco de Mayo
Bitter Almonds are not Twinkies
A detective
struggles each week to
survive and prosper.
Doomed to the dark
grey side of life and
relationships
Guy, as he is known
on NPR
makes me smile.
Another Night on the Case
On the wrong side of town
When there's no one around
Except the corpse you've found
After the sun goes down
Your sanity will drown
In the blood curdling sound
http://williamgrit.com/2014/04/23/tupac-david-back/
Behind Warlocked Doors
bruja-llways twist like snakes,
food dances on djinn-er plates;
when the cucuy clock
thrice strikes 19—
the grimoire-drobe jackets raze
On Anvil Street
Bar stool murmurs
Miss Sometime, with legs like glass
Whiskey trigger
Wet bullet
All I had
On Anvil street
Broken
My nose explodes.
'Cause she walked in
and made me tingle.
Now I'm just throbbing.
My jaw shatters.
Shouldn't've gotten involved.
But now I've got 'em
right where I planned.
Transaction
Stiff nips.
Cherry lipstick
Red
Sucking on her cigarette.
“No names, But-
A price.
Double if we’re not playing nice.”
Slipping rings, I reply,
“Triple not to tell my wife?”