UPDATED WITH WINNER: LitReactor's Flash Fiction Smackdown: July Edition
Flash Fiction: A style of fictional literature marked by extreme brevity - Dante Edition
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
- 25 words is the limit. (You can write less, but you can't write more.)
- The whole story must only be 2 sentences. No more. No less.
- It can be any genre.
- Give it a title (not included in the word count, but keep it under 10 words).
- 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.
- We'll pick a winner on the last day of the month.
- LitReactor staffers can't win, but are encouraged to participate.
- All stories submitted on or before July 30 will be considered. We'll run the winner on July 31.
This Month's Prize
An Advanced Reading Copy of Chuck Palahniuk's upcoming novel Doomed (which doesn't come out until October!) It's a follow-up to the popular Damned. Here's a teaser for ya from Amazon.com:
Madison Spencer, the liveliest, snarkiest dead girl in the universe, continues the adventures in the afterlife begun in Damned. Having somewhat reluctantly escaped from Hell, she now wanders the Purgatory that is Earth as a ghostly spirit, seeking her do-gooding celebrity parents, fighting the malign control of Satan, recounting the disgracefully funny (to us, anyway) encounter with her grandfather in a fetid highway rest stop in upstate New York when she . . . oh, never mind, and climaxing in a rendezvous with destiny on the new, totally plastic continent in the Pacific called, not at all accidentally, Madlantis.
Dante Aligheri, watch your back, Chuck Palahniuk is gaining on you.
Your Inspiration
Perceive ye not that we are worms, designed
To form the angelic butterfly, that goes
To judgment, leaving all defence behind?
Why doth your mind take such exalted pose,
Since ye, disabled, are as insects, mean
As worm which never transformation knows?
from Dante's Purgatorio.
Now Get Writing!
And the winner is ...Barry G
This was a really hard choice, but, as always, I had to go with my gut. Barry G's entry is succinct, clever, and makes great use of the one-two punch that makes the short, short fiction genre work. He also worked in the themes of worms and doom quite well without going over the top. Here's his winning entry:
The worm that knows
“Today, I shall soar like a butterfly”, mused Jeff, poking his head through the dew-drenched earth. The early bird, swooping upon him, cawed in agreement.
That said...
You guys must really like Chuck, because there were 90 ENTRIES --the most ever in the Flash Fiction Smackdown. There were many that I loved for different reasons, and that made me wish I had more books to hand out as prizes. In a Flash Fiction Smackdown first, I would like to extend honorable mentions to two other entrants who made my choice that much harder.
From Charlie McFarland
Anti-Climactic:
The second sentence will be much better than the first.
I'm as disappointed as you are.
From jyh
Poet's Purgatory, Terrace Four: Enjambment
Thanks to all for making this a really hard choice!
Column by Taylor Houston
Taylor Houston is a genuine Word Nerd living in Portland, OR where she works as a technical writer and volunteers on the marketing committee for Wordstock, a local organization dedicated to writing education. She has a BA in Creative Writing and Spanish from Hamilton College and attended Penn State's MFA program in Creative Nonfiction. She has taught writing at all levels from middle school to college to adult, and she is the creator of Writer’s Cramp, a class for adults who just want to write!
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True Judgement I
In The Garden,
I watched a tomato grow to full.
There, in Nature,
He pointed out my attire, my coffee mug, my cigarette,
my humanity.
God is great
From a dark cloth she comes out, radiant in a crimson taffeta dress. Her burqa fits in the Gucci clutch.
Obtuse
Contradictions are everything society is based upon. We are nothing, yet we are everything - in a world where nothing ever sleeps, all is dreamt.
Knowing Full, . . . well?
3 time loser Henryetty Solvancy waits once again at the altar. "Fuck it",she inwardly smiles while tracking a colorful replica of tomorrow's hunger, "think I'll become a Lesbian".
The Easy Way Out
She stared at the poem for hours, hoping inspiration would come. "Oh well," she sighed, finally, "guess I'll just hafta wait till it comes out."
We are all Gods
Your creations stand before you at the day of judgement. How would you satify their reason for being? Careless creator, art produces life.
Retribution
Released from Jail, not a better human only a more acceptable criminal.
Death and Beyond
When the ground opens up, splitting like rotten melons, you will understand the truth. The afterlife is full of jokesters.
Contemplation:
Sitting there unmoving and unchanging, he forces conversation. She stares, thoughts waning from the present to the future. A Razor is sweeter than this.
Heaven And Hell On Earth Vs. The Aspiring Writer(Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Press Enter Here)
Like moths to a flame, we abandon all logic and head towards the light.
Only to have our wings incinerated every time we near Heaven.
Journey’s End on Top of the World
I’ve conquered stars, mountains, treasures and hearts, and only because I never forgot, that I’m nothing more than an insect. A damn fine one, nonetheless...
Now I am the Same As The Rest of the Church
And as I read "... Amen." and closed the good book, I realized I hadn't remembered anything I read. "Good try though," I reasoned.
Carpe Fucking Diem
I despise this fatalism, those who say there is no point.
Meaningful or meaningless, there is still life in this flesh.
The prize
She finally got what she wanted. The wanting was better than the getting, now just to live with the consequences of kill him.
Mister Rogers Lied to Me
I grew up thinking I was born for greatness, and one day I would leave the ordinary people behind. Turns out I'm not special either.
Isolation, Self Destruction and Retribution via Narcotics
Suicide can be more fun than a quick bullet through the head. I’ll be six feet under when I damn well choose.
A Day at the Aviary or, Life is for the Birds
“Why always me?” he said, as the Bluebird of Happiness pooped on his head. He hollered, “Come back, Happiness!” thought twice, and took cover, resigned.
Perspective
After the avalanche of debris and shit, people expected to emerge from the suffocating pile, triumphant. Alas, no soul could tell which way was up.
Byzantine
Rochelle ate her husband's wings on a Tuesday afternoon. Underground, many miles below, he invented sixty-six words for alimony.
Lockdown
The pedophile serving his fourth year of an 18 year sentence. Breaking rehabilitation, punished for once again having pictures of little boys, he died unchanged.
He’s to becoming the world’s greatest novelist—creating timeless storylines that teach, yet entertain. His fingers hover above the keys waiting for Muse’s gentle kiss.
In
memoryyet dark"Nothing more to evolve and your evolution warning is ridiculous" telepathized the Cyborg.'Sometimes the evolution also means cease to exist' human1984 controlled the thoughts.
Pecan Tree
Eyes closed, this bridge is the pecan tree we'd climb in your parents' backyard. I loosen my tie, ungrasp the iron branch.
Post Traumatic Stress
I killed his disabled body and buried it in the garden, where a tomato plant grew. We ate the sweet fruit, felt all his pain.
Femurs in the Garden
Frank struggled for many years to be half the man his father was.
Upon discovering what his father was, he reveled in his lifelong failure.
Unemployed
Suicide would take more than seven percent of my energy
If there’s no God to judge, at least it would give the maggots a job
sooo... basically, this is hint fiction, right?
A Humble Oblation
As the heavens glow with hunger, I sink the blade into my flesh.
My hands now crimson; the viscous formality pools at my feet.
CHRYSALIS
As I'm dying, spit on me: wet your fingers and let the spittle wire between fingertips. Be this the silk of my mourning chrysalis.
So Long (insert name here), it was fun . . .
Will I see you again?
He paused at the door, gave her a saucy wink, then returned to the dregs from whence he came.
Consummation
The chief promised his daughters hand to a demanding god. An unwitting bride would be ceremoniously shoved into the volcano's maw, same as every year.
Salem 1692
Governor Phips watched Sarah's head sink, bob, and sink again. When the water grew still, he said, "Well, I guess she wasn't a witch."
Go Forth
Go forth, child, and share with the world your failures. Then return to me, so I may share with you, mine.
Life
On the cliff´s ledge, he watched as the sun painted the sky. “You really did it!” Was his last thought before he hit the ground.
On Human Error and the Development of Energy Weapons
Ten seconds from now the earth will disintegrate in a nova burst. If only I hadn't been distracted by Internet porn.
Why is this on the Best Seller’s List?
I can’t believe people like Dan Brown’s trash.
Inferno?
Puh-lease, I thought…500 pages later.
After.
"So what are we now?" Born between them, a knowledge of the fragile words that could not carry what all things must; an end.
Dynamic
The son attempts to leave without word. The father accepts his silence, withholding mention of caution or love.
The Exchange
Reading Kafka by the shore, a worm says, “Hello.”
Pages lower to peer; I reply, “Who are you?”
A frown and a slouch, he disappears.
Dried Up
Looking down at the desiccated corpse, true metaphysical horror struck her. We all end, and in the end, we are all just jerky.
Perdition Blvd is a Concrete Nightcrawler
Turnpikes danced themselves free from the earth, the storm holding his car against the sky. He looked down, cursed where this road would take him.
The Foundation
Built to be flawed in the first place.
The last place is the summation of the mistakes and the truths found along the way.
Up From The Sidewalk
Callous palms and scraped knees, crawling along the avenue.
Humanity's blind eyes turned upon blue skies,
watching the wings unfold, of what we could've been.
My mommy loves me soooo much!
Her cervix failed to serve me up, still hanging on that clit.
Nursing on her failure as my mother, I'm her little man, vibrating forever.
Acknowledge the Change
Then He blatantly screamed: deafening to anyone equal, impenetrable to anything greater in His presence. Pride rippled off like snakeskin, as He recombined His appearance.
Humanity's Fate
The future we've seen, within the wings of nameless flying things.
In the dark and earthly night they call to us to join their flight.
Walking Through Random Sundays
She fell in my lap, I told her to "beat like white heat;" she wouldn't hear the tune my saxaphone mouth was playin. Fucking Sundays.
The Shallow Lights
"I am not evil, I am neccesity." He paused, turned, upped his collar and slowly the night ate him.
To Choose
I cut in line between past lives, so I could stand next to you. Now karma shall have it's way with me...
The worm that knows
“Today, I shall soar like a butterfly”, mused Jeff, poking his head through the dew-drenched earth. The early bird, swooping upon him, cawed in agreement.