Winners

The Woman Of Roswell

Three black-suited men came to Miss Dark's door on Wednesday night. Just as the doorbell chimed, her dog, Atticus, started barking wildly. Once he made eye contact with one of the men, he stopped. Miss Dark came downstairs to a whimpering puppy.

She opened the door. "May I help you?"

The cloaked, tall men paused before answering. "Give us the photos." They all spoke at the same time, creating an odd chord in the air.

"What photos? I only took photos of the comet yesterday."

"That was not a comet." This was the last chord of Miss Dark's symphony...

© Venkat Subramanian

A Mother's Love

When entering the dreary place she called home, the overwhelming weight of her problems came rushing back to her. Looking around she saw certificates and trophies. They reminded her she can't give up or else she'll be nothing again. She sensed something at the stairwell only to spot her mother. Her gaze was hot and suffocating, causing the girl to start trembling and grip her hand so tight she drew blood. The child listened to everything her mother said, for she was trapped in the woman's perfect act. Her mother, the puppeteer, and her, the puppet.

© Tanya Sathapornwongkul

'Tis The Season

The freezing winds felt like shards of glass piercing into my frigid cheek. I sauntered through the neglected graves, humming, "It's Christmas time in the city..."

Suddenly, his raspy voice whispered in my ear, "Ring-a-ling!"

Falling to the ground, hearing a winding ruckus, dizziness surrounded me as white powder spilled around...

Life moved on... "Merry Christmas!" young boys cheered down the street.

Carolers performed... "Sleigh Bells ring..."

His raspy voice sang, "Are you listening...?" Snow and cranking thunder echoed around the orb. I moved... starting to bang on my glass prison, as his finger touched the glass covering my body.

© Dylan Delage