ATA Flash Fiction Winner Announcement
Our 2018 - Week 30 Winner is ...
This week' prompt:
Three excellent stories this week - each with their own magic twist and yet everyone seemed to go all introspective on us. It is always fascinating to see where people take the prompts here, but equally amazing is how they can take the same theme and make them their own.
Thank you for sharing your gifts with us week after week - it makes contest worthwhile. You all are amazing and I wish I could give out awards for that.
Mark Moris - You have this way of drawing the reader in, letting them experience the sights and sounds that surround your story and draw them in - That is an incredible gift and you use it very well.
Mil Ana - Your introspection, and shifting thoughts go with the memory loss and filling in the gaps which is brought together in a neat little twist at the end.
Witney Healy - You captured the heart of wanting to get away and write only to find that you can't get away from yourself and you are at the heart of it all. I don't know why but the phrase 'faux joe' made me laugh.
Well done all, and thank you so much for sharing your writing with us - Delightful!
As always, only one entry can win this week - and that winner is:
Your story hit all the right marks, and while there was foreshadowing (not easily done in 200-400 words - you delivered a delightful twist that was nicely supported by the rest of the story. Bravo!
When Hope Vanished
It all started at the beach house, many years ago. The beach house is not there any more. Doctors claim my brain is making up memories to fill the void.
I stopped visiting the house when a friend jumped off the cliff. I remember standing by the cliff, wishing I'd been there to save him”. My life changed direction from that moment on.
“You chose hope. You chose to have a purpose,” said the girl beside me. I felt relieved for a moment, sharing the same memories with another person.
I prevented many people from jumping. With Mike Hope, it didn’t work that well. Broke, unemployed and deserted by wife and friends, he seemed unfortunate indeed, unlike most of the aspiring victims I’d met met. He vanished before I had time to talk to him.
“My name is Alice, sir. I’m here to help you.”
For a while I felt as if I’d fallen into a rabbit hole. Imagination serves well in childhood and in cases like mine; magical thinking comes to explain the world, when the world cannot be explained otherwise.
“Please, stay calm, sir.”
“If Mike Hope disappeared, you will too. Memory loss indicates the author decided to erase you. You don’t serve the plot anymore,” Alice said.
“I’ll try my best to save you, sir.”
“Our only way out of this is to kill the author,” she added frowning.
I sat in silence for a while. I could almost hear the author’s words from a distance:
“Hope is not essential to the story.”
I couldn’t let myself dive into despair. Hope’s always essential.
“Kill the author,” I shouted.
Opening my eyes again, I see them staring at me: people in white coats observing me, as I yell “kill the author”.
“Agitation is common in situations like this.”
Then I see her; Alice, my savior, stands by my side, looking concerned.
“He seems to like you, Alice. Will you perform the injection?”
After the injection, all is quiet. Before I go to sleep, I remember the fall. I remember the job I lost, my wife leaving me. I even recall the final dive into the cold waters.
“So, what’s his name again?”
“It’s Hope. Mike Hope. He’s the well known suicidal savior, sir. Saving people, while trying to kill himself.”
“I told you I’d find a way, sir,” she whispers in my ear, before leaving the room.
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Tune in tomorrow for another installment of ... the ATA Flash Fiction Contest!