As promised, here are the top three from our recent Flash Fiction Competition, as judged by Roberta Dewa.
In 3rd place, “Barn Owl” by Diane Jackman
The barn owl, white as a wraith, flaps across the fallow fields under the moon.
The slow-witted boy, who opened the barn door wide and let him out, shrieks, flaps his way home, crying of ghosts and monsters. Nothing will persuade him into the barn again, not his mother’s pleas, nor his master’s threats.
So there is no work and no food.
White as a wraith the boy flaps across the fallow fields under the moon. Yellow eyed, through the jagged hole where tiles slipped in the last storm, the barn owl silently watches over his re-conquered territory and waits.
In 2nd place, “Merlin” by Paul Mein
At one with the centipede and worm. Ribs and blanched roots tangle deep clay. They cannot be told apart. They have grown together through the ages. Since she shackled me with my own spells, I feel ne winter nor summer.
Sometimes, ghosts – scents of bluebell, may; swallow ticked sky; snow scatter of lambs – ghosts.
My sweet boy whooping, calling my name, racing down the hillside, a pony unfettered, careless, full of promise, showing me the trout he’s tickled. For a pinprick of time time, I share his freshness, joy in simple tasks, life.
Before kingship, betrayal, death.
Let him call my name again.
In 1st place, “Lady in Waiting” by Jo Carr
There’s little here to preserve me. The daylight ends when the light from the window is a tiny sliver, bisecting the lines of iron set into the cold, stone walls.
My vision of the sky is the only fascination in this nether-world. Sometimes birds flutter past, singing. When the heavens brighten I can just see the walls of my cell. Then is the time to make my mark. With a rusty nail I count the days in scratches, steeling myself for the dusk.
Someone, somewhere, is flying a kite. Wet or dry, people laugh, people cry.
I make another mark.
Congratulations to the winners and many thanks to all that entered!
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