The Creative Writing activity and the Chandlery collaborated to run a flash fiction contest during the month of November. To be eligible for the competition, each story had to be 100 words or less. There were no limits on a genre. Twenty-three stories were submitted and judged by a pane lf students and faculty: Spencer Goldsmith 22’, Lucia Gomez-Ibanez 25’, Ethan Pratt 22’, Tasha Sudofsky 22’, Sarah Thieler 22’, and Ms. Manchester. Thank you to everyone who submitted and who judged the contest! It could not have been done without you. Below are the top five stories as decided by the judges.

First Place: Charlotte Ray 23’

The city nights were beautiful as always. The landscape with blotted lights, the sky lacking stars, and the soft blare of police sirens lost in the maze of buildings that finds your ears each night.

Cars flew down the highway with their blinding spots in the darkness. I could practically feel the eyes of the drivers boring into my skull out of curiosity and bewilderment. I drifted closer to the edge of the bridge with relative haste while holding my boyfriend’s hand tighter in the cool air.

With my luck, they won’t find the rest of him.

Second Place: Henry Richins 25’ 

Theodore was an old decrepit dog, he had provided for his beloved old master’s farm in his youth, but now he was sluggish and tired. His old master was forced to sell Theodore to pay for his daughter’s funeral. His new masters were neglectful men with thick clouds of stale liquor about them. Theodore’s back stung from the constant malevolence, but nothing compared to the hollow feeling in his heart, aching to be with his former companion. When the hooded figure came to claim him, he welcomed the visitor, for the vicious cycle was coming to an end.

Third Place: Faye McGuire 26’

Stepping through the cobblestone streets, children fled at the sight of his tall, curved mask that resembled a crow’s beak, the bird of death. But beneath that mask, there was only fatigue; beneath his gloves, his hands were stained red with blood. Beneath all of his outer intimidations, there was a plague doctor, tired and covered in the fluids of his dying patients and his ears filled with the screams of his patient’s families. Yet only his brain remained untainted by death, for his brain was solely occupied by thoughts of his beau, the lighthouse in the storm, his oasis.

Fourth Place: Susanna Lowell 25’ 

I watched her walk by everyday. She traversed the grounds with dainty steps as she took in the surrounding world. She minded herself, and others minded her. She had a regular companion; shy, seclusive, who let her choose the way. Their walk was slow but sure, not unlike a mother and fawn. He made sure they left no visible trace, which I deeply respected. I wanted to get to know her, but I wasn’t sure how, or if she wanted friends. I must admit my passion for her was a bit too strong; after all, she was just a dog.

Fifth Place: Cian Davis 26’

The cold, dark buildings, towering above my head, were pierced by moonlight through a small window, and a shadow passed through the beam, in the thought un-inhabited stone. It was the tower where my old master, the professor, had lived, before he left our small town. It was not I who discovered he had taken his leave, in the morning of the day he left, but one of my comrades. As I am walking home, my friend notices the shadow. He points up at it. I ignore him, fearing the worst, and continue walking. We were both dead before morning.

Fifth Place: Dhara Sananikone-Evans 26’ 

The year drags along winter creeping closer and closer bound to coat the land in it’s crisp, cold, dark silence. The world sleeps as the darkness spreads and the seasons change from crisp cool air to frigid and dull. It’s impossible to escape the wrath of the changing seasons. People stay sheltered away from the blustering wind that threatens to knock the breath out of anyone who is caught in its path. A wail rises from the ground and chills the soul of one who hears it. Cold crawls along the end seeming far away never to end.