Writing Tournament V: Winners

Hello writers!

Thank you for your patience as the judges deliberated on the winners of the Fifth Annual Writing Tournament! This year's prompts for genres rather than specific themes were a little out of the ordinary, but we wanted to test our writers and see how they handled material outside their comfort zones. We did not, however, anticipate being tested ourselves! Judging these rounds and arguing over the merits of what we each consider enjoyable reading material has been a profound lesson, particularly with the last round of comedy entries. Ultimately, we decided on the entries that made us remember, think, and laugh the most.

We thank and congratulate our writers for their wonderful effort! Without further ado, the winners of Tournament V are as follows:

First Place

gadsdy
The Mailman Stole My MailI love the mail
I love the way it looks
and the way it smells
I love the fact that for the mail
a person took time
to put something on paper
and put it in an envelope
and address it to me
They bought a stamp
and drove to the post office
or at least walked to their mailbox
I check the mail
every single day
packages, letters, postcards
It's glorious
On June 1st I didn't get any mail
no letters
no packages
No postcards
not even a circular ad
weird, but it happens
not often though
I have penpals
I have amazon prime
I have multiple magazine subscriptions
I get mail
June 2nd
no mail
that's not normal
but there's a first time for everything
June 3rd
still no mail
that's insane
It wasn't even a national holiday
June 4th
was a Sunday
June 5th
I went to the post office
I demanded my mail
as I pounded on the counter
The shocked mail clerk
asked me to wait in line
The other customers had been waiting
for a longer time
So I waited
and I waited
and I waited
took a nap
got married
had 5 kids
woke up For loveOn my deathbed a young girl, my great granddaughter, asked me why I never married. She looked around the hospice room at her mother, her grandmother, her aunts, and me as she wondered why she had no great grandfather. In reply I told her "Baby girl, I've only ever loved two men in my life and I lost both of them. One of them loved me with a passion so strong it burned me up inside. The other one, well, I loved him even more than that."
In America, the roaring twenties left a lot to be desired for a twenty-two year old me. Specifically, it left me desiring marriage. It was the kind of marriage shunned by "civilized" society, but what could I do? Just to look at him melted my jaded heart. He was white and I was black. At the time it seemed like an unachievable goal to one day be his wife, but it was also the least of our problems.
"Get up Anna." Johnny's gruff voice demanded as he burst through the door. Three days I had been in bed. Three days of lying in a white linen nightgown with te The HuntClose, Close, unbearable close
Breathing turns heavy
Stench burns my nose
           Quick, Quick, incredibly quick
           The chase is beginning
           With air quite thick
  Black, Blue, the night and the sea
  Can't be a murder
  Without a body
Slow........Slow..........think it through
Not of what was done
But what they will do
Left...... Right.......follow the path
Even at night
Heavy steps bend grass
Red.....Blue....... blood to bruise
Don't jump to conclusions
Just follow the clues
   Snap, Crunch, of sticks and dried leaves
   Had to be done
   Was him or me
Jump, Duck, a log and a branch
Freedom in reach
With every inch
           Sink, swim, to heaven or hell
           Anything's better
           Than life in jail
High......Low......Panic is her

Second Place

RoseScarlet
food for thoughti was walking around the supermarket
but couldn't get through
because flies swarmed around the stand
buzzing about
how oranges imported from mexico
weren't as sweet as
blood oranges from spain
and there i saw him
more of a melting candle-
thick-skinned and moldy around the eyes
said to
grab her ripeness,
and twist it from the stem
just like with his daughter
of course
they say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree
so i hope it's not the same for
oranges because i know
she'll be my next queen,
(your majestree,
i was on this fruit stand all along
i know that i am the one who belongs) :thumb656282386: siren.it's a murky november night.
the silence is a little romantic,
the lack of stars is somewhat whimsical
and you're just happy to be together.
it's so cold though-
you give her your scarf and smile as she
wraps it back around you even tighter.
i won't let you be cold, she sings.
-
it's a murky november night
but your lover's eyes are singing.
they hold forbidden adoration as she
wraps her arms around you,
wraps her hands around your n
-
othing.
-
they were such an odd couple,
to have fallen in love in a graveyard of all places.
they would visit it for their anniversary from time to time,
in contrast to those who were there for mourning.
and one day they both just disappeared without a trace
-
/s her fingers down your nose,
your lips
you can't see her eyes but you know they're beautiful,
she's singing and you want to make her
unbroken,
you let her wrap herself around you,
you let her bury her head in your chest,
you let her bury you-

-
(except fo

Third Place

Nim-Riel
The Beast“The deed is done.”
Standing in the foyer of her small home, Irene frowned at the man in her hallway, his hand outstretched to take her coat. She hesitated before setting it in his palm. When he’d first appeared in her kitchen, sword drawn and bloodied and several hundred years after his lifetime, she’d known letting him stay was a bad idea.
“Deed?” she asked.
“Thy home is safe,” Leo said.
“Good to know… but I wasn’t aware it wasn’t.”
He nodded, his expression serious, his hand dropping from the coat rack to rest on the hilt of the sword he kept strapped to his side. “The beast hath been vanquished.”
“The- I’m sorry. What?”
“A creature of darkness lurked beneath thy floor. ‘Tis gone.”
“Leo, you know there’s no such thing as ‘creatures of darkness’ right?”
Calloused fingers curled around the swords hilt, keen eyes narrowing. “T Ashford HallAshford Hall stood proud on the edge of the village growing at its southern most border. Nestled within carefully tended gardens, the residents enjoyed a life free from the lower class scourge in the settlement nearby.
The day Celia Thatch arrived, she met the Lord and Lady Ashford on the front steps as she was ushered in by a withered old maid.
“My Lord,” the maid croaked. “Might I introduce the new nanny you requested.”
Lord Ashford barely paused to study the new arrival and Celia gathered her skirts, stepping aside when he and his wife bustled passed.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “Johnathan, load the carriage, would you. Hurry now, we have no time to waste.” He turned as the butler collected the bags and studied Celia. “You received my letter regarding your duties?”
“Yes, Sir,” Celia said.
“Good, good,” Lord Ashford said. “The children are upstairs. I leave them in your care. Marge, be a dear and show Sweet MysteryBare feet padded along carpeted floor, a faint shuffling sound following the movement down the dark hallway. The drowsy figure blundered passed closed doors and into the kitchen at the end of the corridor, their toes curling at the chill of the linoleum beneath them.
For a moment, the kitchen’s late night visitor stood in the doorway. Stumbling forward, their knee caught on the cupboard door nobody had remembered to shut.
The obstacle didn’t stop them from reaching their destination and the dark shadows in the room fled when the light from the fridge poured out. A plate clinked on the metal shelves inside and, for a while, the only sounds were that of enthusiastic chewing.
Darkness returned when the fridge door shut and, as fast and as quiet as they arrived, the visitor left.
Still half asleep, Alice slammed a hand onto the blaring alarm sitting on her bedside table. She missed and whined into her pillow as she patted the cabinet, searching for the noisy clock. The shatteri

Honorable Mentions

10 Things I Won't be Allowed to do by Age 7010 THINGS I WON’T BE ALLOWED TO DO BY AGE 70
Prepare ANY meal by hand: Particularly meals that include fire. Not after that one fire incident. Not after my eyebrows are just growing back.
Go to the hairdresser: I will be reminded of the 60’s hair disaster and why the hairdresser is scared of chickens.
Go into foreign holy buildings: The Holy priest didn’t appreciate my humor about the size of that ONE statue’s – Never mind. I don't want to talk about it.
Drive: Driving is not like Mario Kart 20. Driving is not remotely like Mario Kart 20.
Own a cell phone: How was I supposed to know that it was the Prime Minister’s number? It was just a prank, dude.
Buy Bread: Attempting to amass a duck army is NOT funny nor OK, say some. Excuses to use the army for "the defense of the city" will be immediately dismissed.
Go to bookstores unaccompanied and/or with any form of credit card: I will be told that doing any of the sorts is dangerous for my old heart and we HiranyakashipuavalokiteshvaraWelcome. I am an android and my name is Hiranyakashipuavalokiteshvara. You cannot sadly call me by any other name or nickname, because my entire software programming and command prompts are based entirely on the entry "Hiranyakashipuavalokiteshvara". So you must memorize and train to say my name right, otherwise I will not be able to answer you or even give you any attention at all.
Due to a random meeting with two siblings who claimed to be from another parallel universe and whom I have only met for 30 minutes, I have been convinced to tell my life story to all of the universe; so here it follows.
I am, as I have said, an android. I have been created by Satan Inc. to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy. To do so, they had decided that I should be a monsterous-looking creature; my eyes were constantly lit up by a small fire in the eye sockets, which was very annoying, and often caused me trouble with my vision, such as bumping everywhere, stepping on the King's feet, breaking prec HammerI'm an artist. Well, a shitty artist. New York's full of hidden treasures, right? That girl working in a coffee shop and one of those trendy froyo places that you pay like, eleven dollars at, while writing fucking epiphanies when she's not working? She's one of those treasures, that perfect porcelain plate, or that Bee Gee's vinyl that you find at the secondhand store when you dig enough. But you know how...how sometimes you go and you look and all you find is a tickle in your nose from breathing in stale air and funky smelling quilts and dusty trinkets taken from a hoarder's house after they die? Yeah, that's more of what I am. Adam, the dead hoarder's used and broken McDonald's toy collection.
So I'm Jesse. There isn't much to say. I'm not terribly interesting and there's not much I can give you as far as achievements go. I'm the old guy in my meager ring of friends; I'll be 34 in a few months. Too old to have no idea what the hell I'm doing and for it to be charming.
If I can giv Who Drives the Sun?“I am Ra.” Hands raised to the stars, Ra bellowed. “God of the Sun. It rises through my will, it sets through my will. It-“
“Will you shut up already?” Apollo yawned and rolled his neck to the side, sipping ambrosia through a crazy straw. “Wi’s got our manly Sol. He’s not coming around for another three hours. And anyways, it’s my turn to drive the chariot.”
Ra’s eyes narrowed and he lowered his hands. “It was your turn yesterday. And you failed.”
The Roman scoffed, letting his drapery fall where it may as he stood to his full height, easily rivaling Ra. “I didn’t fail,” he responded, tight lipped. “It was a solar eclipse.”
“At the time of a test, a person rises or falls.” His tone clearly implied he thought Apollo fell.
He growled. “At least I have more than one talent. Music, healing, plague, poetry, archery, manly beauty, prophecy. I Questions and NonsenseI have countless questions
all stuck in my eye,
like how do sharks feel
when they see pudding fly?
Would a 747
look good in a suit?
What if owls sung Smash Mouth
instead of giving a hoot?
Do lamps ever dream
of their trolleys on fire?
And if so, do they burn
for their mascot's desire?
These questions keep humming
their polka-dot tune
to the point where my muskrat
can't find his balloon.
And while I try to remember
my own mother's fence,
My leg slowly thinks
am I making scents?

Congratulations to our wonderful winners!


  Prizes!  

:thumb139460745: First Place :thumb139460745:
Quill and Inkwell Set
Three Month Core Memebrship from BreaghaDerryth
150 Points from RollingTomorrow
100 Points from Kashbugg
100 Points from CircleDreams
75 Points from hadasaugh-sculpt
Art request from RollingTomorrow
Short story request from DrMeh
Critiques from RollingTomorrow, DrMeh, Pepper-the-phoenix, Kashbugg
Feature at Writers--club
Feature at Live-Love-Write
Feature at xWritersUtopiax
Features from RollingTomorrow, DrMeh

:thumb139460926: Second Place :thumb139460926:
One Month Core Memebrship from BreaghaDerryth
100 Points from RollingTomorrow
75 Points from CircleDreams
50 Points from hadasaugh-sculpt
Chibi art request from RollingTomorrow
Critiques from RollingTomorrow, DrMeh, BreaghaDerryth
Feature at Writers--club
Feature at Live-Love-Write
Feature at xWritersUtopiax
Features from RollingTomorrow, DrMeh

:thumb139461049: Third Place :thumb139461049:
75 Points from RollingTomorrow
25 Points from CircleDreams
25 Points from hadasaugh-sculpt
Chibi art request from RollingTomorrow
Critiques from RollingTomorrow, DrMeh
Feature at Writers--club
Feature at Live-Love-Write
Feature at xWritersUtopiax
Features from RollingTomorrow, DrMeh

:thumb174214341: Honorable Mentions :thumb174214341:
Feature at Writers--club
Feature at Live-Love-Write
Feature at xWritersUtopiax
Features from RollingTomorrow, DrMeh

We thank you all for your participation and hope that you will look forward to our next event.