Mini-Contest
#7
The
seventh mini-contest was held in December 2008. It
challenged contestants to tell a complete story in 25 to 75
words in which the most prevalent and important sensory
information related to sound. To make the challenge
greater, we insisted that dialogue be used sparingly, if at
all.
We received 84 entries. Two reading judges selected 11
contenders from all the entries received. Five prize judges
labeled one entry as their “favorite” and rated the rest as
either “yes,” “maybe,” or “no.”
Our first place winner and the author of an honorable
mention have never been published in OTP before. The other
three authors represented below are previous winners, and
their works once again impressed the judges, who, please
recall, judge every entry blindly. These authors must be
doing something right! But with every contest to date,
we’ve published authors never published here before, so I
think we’re doing something right too.
Third Place ($5) by Ashley Armstrong
My
husband is a quiet man, whose whisper sounds like waves on
the seashore. I didn’t know what to do when I met him.
Sharon introduced us fast and hard in her loud nasal whine,
patted us both on the shoulder, and left us to talk.
“Hi,” I tried.
He stood there without saying a word. The noise of other
people’s conversations rose around us like bubbling water.
But he didn’t speak.
I liked it.
Second
Place ($10) by Laura Loomis
The
silence after he left was like the silence that woke her
after the heater turned off at night, a deep comforting hum
that went unnoticed until it was gone.
First Place ($15) by Liz Tetley (new to OTP)
They
want a legally blind person to pick out the robber? Five
men stand right in front of the window, but I still can’t
identify him.
I remember Jeffy swishing coins on the counter, counting
aloud. A gunshot. Sizzles and pops as the old security
camera fried. The man slammed the metal cash box shut. His
footsteps were uneven as he fled. His ride screeched off.
“He had a limp,” I say.
Honorable
Mentions (no money, just fame)
Two other entries scored highly enough to earn an honorable
mention. They are listed below in descending order by
overall score.
Distant sirens
transport Joey to the night his parents died.
Flames
sizzle, devouring drapes; light bulbs explode with
sputtering pops. Burning newspapers hiss a trail to the
sofa, igniting it with an explosive whoosh. Bourbon-soaked
clothes flare; agonized shrieks erupt.
Now, he listens to his foster parents fighting. She
screeches; he bellows. Cupboards slam. Dishes shatter.
The sirens recede. Joey yawns, scrapes his thumbnail on the
matchbook beneath his pillow, and
dreams.
(by Renee
Holland Davidson)
The key clicked
as he turned it. Clockwork ticked and tocked. The
mechanical bird opened its eyes and loosed a brief melody
of chirps.
It really was a marvel. No creaks or squeaks, but only
whispers of movement as it carried on like a bird of flesh.
Beautiful.
He took the bird into the living room, where the clockwork
cat purred in its sleep. A bell tinkled when he pulled a
string.
“Dinnertime,” he said.
(by Robert
Nickerson, new to OTP)
Now
It’s Our Turn
I had to try
this one myself. None of the other judges felt so
compelled.
I’m old school:
rattling chains, creaky floorboards, abrupt moans right
behind your ear. Or more subtly, the gentle susurrus of
drapes moving in no wind. But this new ghost died young and
brought his PlayStation with him. Now this old townhome’s
owners hear explosions, dragons’ roars, soldiers’ shouts,
incessant beeping. They say it’s the neighbor’s TV and
snore away, unafraid. Dead or alive, it’s the same story:
the world’s leaving me behind.
(by Tarl
Roger Kudrick)
Congratulations
to the winners and our sincere thanks to everyone who
entered the mini-contest.