The judges have made their decisions. They carefully considered the four criteria listed in the rules as they made their final decisions. Those four criteria are: originality (25 percent), creativity (25 percent), use of language (25 percent), and appropriateness to contest theme (25 percent). The final winners and their stories are listed below. Enjoy!
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First prize is a $25 AMAZON electronic gift card, one free enrollment in a live 20/10 Webinar of the winner’s choice, publication with bio and photo on our blog with links from the I4IE Center for Writing Excellence Website for a minimum of one year. PLUS: publication in the annual Fiction in Five Anthology and a FREE e-copy of the Anthology at the end of the contest year! (First annual Fiction in Five Anthology due out August, 2011)
First place winner: Missed Connection by Angela Lambert-Hustus, of Hebron, Connecticut.Angela earned a BA in English from the University of Connecticut in 1999. In 2005, she successfully completed the Writing for Children and Teenagers course through the Institute of Children’s Literature in West Redding, CT. In November 2009, her children’s story entitled “Mystery in the Attic” was published in Knowonder! on-line magazine. She has enjoyed writing children’s fiction for many years but has recently started focusing on adult fiction. She lives in central Connecticut with her husband and daughter.
Missed Connection
Gia plopped down into the seat on her connecting flight with a sigh, feeling frustrated, disheveled and exhausted. If she had her way, there would be no such thing as Valentine’s Day. Her sister’s wedding was an over-the-top tribute to the holiday, full of hearts, cupids and everything tacky. Now she was en route home on the red eye (how fitting), contemplating the full day of work in store for her immediately upon her return.
Gia glanced down at the red velvet bridesmaid dress and red bouquet peeping out from her carry-on and sighed again. She was sick of the well-meaning questions about her love life, or lack thereof. It seemed that everyone had a friend to fix her up with, or a “handsome” brother. She’d been there, done that. What was the harm in waiting for a magic moment? Maybe it didn’t exist, but so far nothing else had either. Besides, work consumed her life right now anyway.
Two hours into the six-hour flight, almost everyone on the flight was dozing off. Gia was restless. As tired as she felt, she wasn’t plane sleeper. As she bent down to retrieve her book bag from under the seat, someone a few rows down caught her eye. He realized he’d drawn her attention and grinned, sending Gia’s stomach into a tailspin. He was gorgeous! She smiled shyly in return and looked away. Flirting was not one of her strong points.
Gia began reading, but couldn’t resist a few peeks at the cutie, who now seemed engrossed in something he was writing. A few minutes later a flight attendant came by with the drink cart and tapped her shoulder.
“This is for you,” she said and handed her a folded napkin. Inside the fold was a brief note in a masculine script. Beautiful…the flowers, I mean. Gia looked up in confusion until she locked eyes with the cute guy, whose eyes danced as he winked at her while he pretended to stretch.
Hmmm… interesting and unexpected, Gia thought. I like this guy’s style. She turned over the napkin and quickly scrawled a response, then re-opened her book. A few minutes later, Gia “accidentally” bumped the hottie’s elbow while away from her seat under the pretense of stretching her legs. In his lap, he found a note.
He scanned it quickly and chuckled aloud, earning a dirty glance from his neighbor. Not nearly as stunning as your….beret. She was quick as well as beautiful. He liked that.
He stuffed a napkin in the pouch of a girl’s purse as she walked by. By now he had Gia’s full attention, so she deftly snatched the note as the girl passed. The new office thinking cap, it read. Ad exec. by sunlight, wanna-be novelist by moonlight. You?
Gia’s heart was beating a mile a minute. Was this really happening? The two coyly passed notes like two giddy school children for the rest of the flight. She even managed to sneak him the little bag of candy hearts and tiny bites of chocolate that her sister gave out as wedding favors. In the age of tweeting and texting, this was old school, lighthearted and fun. It was just what Gia needed. Through short scribbles, she somehow conveyed that she was an unattached, aspiring journalist who was currently assigned to classifieds in the city’s biggest newspaper. How was that for speed dating?
Gia was stunned when the pilot announced their descent. Six hours already! She kept her eyes on the hottie as mobs of people searched for their belongings. The hottie? Good grief, they hadn’t even exchanged names!
He shot her one last breathtaking smile and moved toward the exit, but the passengers between them moved in slow motion. No!! She had to catch him and get his name. Would he wait for her? When she finally disembarked he was nowhere to be found. She searched in vain at the baggage claim but he’d simply vanished.
Gia felt empty as she hopped a streetcar to work. Had her chance at love just come and gone as quickly as that? Had it all been some sort of sleep deprived illusion? She slogged through the day as best she could in the wrinkled newspaper polo fresh from her suitcase, showing off her photos but keeping her mile-high adventure with the hottie to herself.
The next morning, Gia’s daydream was interrupted by a vigorous shoulder tap. Her coworker probably had a romantic date lined up for the actual holiday; she was way too animated for 8 AM.
“Gia, take a look!” In the day’s want ad section was her dream come true. Missed connection: witty journalist with pretty stems.
Gia sat at her desk, smiling like a lovesick fool. Perhaps Cupid really had worked his magic…
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Second prize is one free enrollment in a live 20/10 Webinar of the winner’s choice and publication with bio and photo on our blog with links from the I4IE Center for Writing Excellence Website for a minimum of one year. PLUS: publication in the annual Fiction in Five Anthology and a FREE e-copy of the Anthology at the end of the contest year! (First annual Fiction in Five Anthology due out August, 2011)
Second place winner:Art Appreciation by Carol Clark. Carol writes short fiction and poetry in the Philadelphia suburbs. She is also an editor with EveryDayFiction, where she enjoys poring over flash pieces and discovering fresh voices. Carol loves to immerse herself in all things literary, and participates in several local and online reading and writing groups. She also enjoys movies, cooking, and spending time with family and friends.
Art Appreciation
Stewart moved the red velvet hearts to one side of the card, then to the other. Did it really matter anyway? He knew these mass-produced messages of love ended up in the trashcan by February 15th. Three years at the Institute and all he could do now was mix and match colors, make simple designs for people who couldn’t find any way of their own to say, “I Love You.”
Stewart leaned back in his swivel chair and sighed. “If I had my way, there’d be no such thing as Valentine’s Day.” Then he laughed. “I’m a poet, and didn’t even know it! Maybe I’m in the wrong department.” Stewart often talked to himself at work, and didn’t care if anyone heard him. Who among his colleagues at Anderson Greeting Cards would argue that this stuff they were creating was art? They were cutting and pasting and scribbling designs. Just like in Kindergarten.
Needing a short break, Stewart resorted to his ritualistic staring at the white ceiling panels above him. This was his escape, where he recreated from his mind the images and imaginings of his real work: paintings, sculptures, sometimes even the ornate inner walls of a museum or a castle. He knew someday he’d design a masterpiece, a creation cultivated from long, drawn-out periods of meditation and musing. Stewart Hanlon would have his name etched into his artwork, and then he would touch somebody. Perhaps even touch their soul. But for now he was on the clock, and this work mattered little to him.
Damn. Stewart hadn’t realized the time. He had three hours to finish four more designs. He plucked the next card from his Inbox, and winced as he read the words out loud:
I will give you my heart
On this special day,
And if you should keep it,
In love we shall stay.
Dear God. Stewart had no idea what he’d do for this one. He groaned and put his head in his hands. No creativity or adventure here. He started the self-talk out of necessity: You can do it, just a few more to go. This is paying your rent, remember? Dutifully he went to work drawing, and scribbled a red heart on the card’s cover. Then he sketched two hands reaching from either side and touching the heart in the center. For the next half hour, Stewart concentrated on his work and even admitted to himself that he was doing a decent job with this one. He put the finishing touches of color on it, and continued work on the rest of the cards. At 4:59 PM, his computer screamed a simulated end-of-day whistle, to which he responded instantly. With the swipe of one hand, he cleared off the top of his desk. He switched off the artist’s lamp, and grabbed his coat.
Stewart met his friend at the elevator, and they discussed the location of the evening’s Happy Hour. All thoughts of pink and red and silly messages were shut out as the elevator doors closed. Another day at the office was over.
* * * * *
Sergeant Lance Bowden tried not to let it bother him as he watched his buddies open their packages from home. Emotions were not his thing anyway. He was an adult man fighting an adult war. And really, what the hell did Valentine’s Day mean in Iraq? With Army composure he watched Private Mason dump an envelope full of printed candy hearts onto the table. All the men laughed at him, of course, with phrases like Mason’s old lady” and “the old battleaxe” flying around. They proceeded to toss the candy at each other and across the room. Private Miller opened a red envelope and pulled out a King-sized candy bar. He lifted his pinky and began taking tiny bites of chocolate, a sight at which the other men howled. Each husband or boyfriend took his turn at mocking the Valentine’s holiday, each skillfully avoiding the feelings that kept them all awake at night.
Sergeant Bowden decided he’d had enough of the party, and stepped outside the mess hall. It was quiet tonight, except for the few streetcars that passed outside the base, and the blasts from enemy shelling in the distance. Nothing unusual. The door to the mess hall opened, and Private Miller approached him.
“There’s one here for you, Sergeant.” Puzzled, Bowden took the envelope and looked at the writing. Nothing he recognized.
“Thank you, Miller.” Private Miller rejoined the group, and out of sheer curiosity plus a little bit of excitement, Bowden tore open the envelope. He read the card, then sat down on the ground beneath him. He let the card fall into his lap.
She remembered him. Only two dates with Susan before he’d shipped out, and she was thinking of him the same way he was thinking of her. Day after day through this war, Bowden tried to block out her gentle blue eyes and contagious giggling. Those images and feelings had no place here. Yet he traced, and then retraced, his fingers over and around the hands with the red heart in the center.
The commotion in the mess hall continued, and the shelling got louder that night before it subsided. But Sergeant Bowden remained seated on the cold hard ground. She remembered him, and she loved him back. He clutched the card tightly in his hands all night. Silly, red and white Valentine’s Day card.
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Third prize is publication with bio and photo on our blog with links from the I4IE Center for Writing Excellence Website for a minimum of one year. PLUS: publication in the annual Fiction in Five Anthology and a FREE e-copy of the Anthology at the end of the contest year! (First annual Fiction in Five Anthology due out August, 2011)
Third place winner: Alien to Me by James Ordoñez. James is from Pataskala, Ohio. He is an Electronic Engineering student at the Central Ohio Technical College and plans on transferring to Ohio State University upon receiving his associate’s degree, where he plans on becoming an English Major with a focus on Creative Writing. James hopes to break into screenwriting one day. He enjoys writing and pretty much anything related to the art of storytelling. In his leisure time, he enjoys being with friends, practicing martial arts, working out and playing video games.
Alien to Me
Yesterday was an exercise in futility. The humans I had been assigned to supervise wanted today off to be with their loved ones. I pleaded with my superiors that construction on the Space Elevator had to be completed and that indulging the humans for every insignificant “holiday” would hamper efforts to repair their damaged world.
They disagreed with my assessment, saying I should be more respectful of their custom especially since it relates to their breeding practices. In the aftermath of the disaster the human population suffered a loss of a sixty-percent, so perhaps I could see their logic. But giving an entire day for a courting ritual was ridiculous. They could (and can) court and breed anytime they wanted to, but not on my time!
Truth be told I merely wanted to return to my home world. I was among those to make first contact, which, aside from an incident involving my heavy mechanical frame breaking out the bottom of a street car (a bad habit of mine was piloting vehicles before checking their weight limits) had gone better than expected. I was later partnered with foreman Thandero to help me better integrate with humans and to build the massive Space Elevator. Could it be helped that I missed my home where everything was especially built for my species?
He championed having the Valentine’s Day off. Seeing as I had nothing better to do the foreman invited me to his residence and to meet his girlfriend at the park later that day. We briefly visited a merchant’s venue. Thandero sarcastically offered to buy me a truffle. I say sarcastically because I obviously do not have a mouth. They are optional to my species. Now if they made tiny bites of chocolate into something I could plug in my reactor I may have indulged him. We left after he purchased something I wasn’t able to see, leaving me to wonder if it was one of those candy hearts I’ve read about. I amused myself with the thought he intended to give her the heart of some powerful native creature glazed in some kind of sweet substance, presumably chocolate as a proof of his worth as a mate. I have an odd sense of humor.
As we drove, in a vehicle able to handle my weight, I pondered why exactly the foreman brought me along. He was the first to know of my objections so I took his invitation out of kindness. I considered him a friend and perhaps my superiors were correct in assuming I was too dismissive of his customs. It didn’t help that most people he knew had died in the disaster and he was still dealing with the trauma. He only had her. It doesn’t mean I have to enjoy this little “adventure” in human ritual but I will tolerate it for his sake. Perhaps he wanted me to understand how important this was to him.
We arrived at his home. He told me it was destroyed in the cataclysm and then rebuilt in almost perfect detail in the months following by the construction drones my people used. I keep telling Thandero that our technology is not magic but he insisted it is. More sarcasm perhaps. He grabbed some food from the refrigerator and carefully prepared a picnic. I offered to help him. After all, I had recipes in my database and could program the culinary skills of a master on a moment’s notice. He declined, saying he needed to do this on his own. Something about a special dish.
He told me to make myself at home though I had to take precautions so as not to plunge myself into his basement. Luckily navigation was easy thanks my advanced sensors. As I wandered my attention was drawn to a photograph of the woman he preferred, or rather loved. I’ve told Thandero several times there is no significant difference between love and preference. He always replied that I missed my home because I” loved” it there. I told him it was a preference for a place where I didn’t have to fear crushing something.
The foreman finished cooking whatever special meal he had prepared and basket in hand we were off to the park. We met with his companion on a hill capped by a lone tree and sat down for a meal under the setting sun. Since I did not eat I took an early leave to observe a flock of birds dancing around the fountain at the other side of the park. I told the couple to seek me out when they were done with whatever courtship ritual they were engaging in.
Hours later the sun had set and I had begun to wonder if my friends had forgotten about me. My sensors detected their approach as soon as I started back. They were both excited and I noticed a ring on the finger of Thandero’s companion. I was told he had proposed marriage and she had accepted. More so I was offered the position of best man. I congratulated them both and accepted their request.
I may not be capable of understanding human love, but I can now grasp its importance to the human condition. In the weeks that followed he was happier than ever. We even completed the Space Elevator ahead of schedule! I was able to leave but remained for the wedding, wearing a spray-painted tuxedo on my armor. That image is now one of my favorites. I still don’t understand the need for a “Valentine’s Day,” but I am glad it meant something to my friend.
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Honorable Mention prize is publication in the annual Fiction in Five Anthology and a FREE e-copy of the Anthology at the end of the contest year! (First annual Fiction in Five Anthology due out August, 2011)
Honorable Mention Winners:
Patent Pending by Michelle Sisco of Chicago, Illinois
The Chocolate Effect by Pearl Prokopowicz of the Philadelphia Suburbs
You can read these and all the Honorable Mention winning stories in the Annual Fiction in Five Anthology, due out in August, 2011. Congratulations to all our wonderful writers!
Center for Writing Excellence 