From a mother and children fleeing their home to the reflections of a grieving brother, the winners of our Short Story Competition deal with connection, family, and the quietness of loss. Read the winners and finalists, along with commentary from Guest Judge Jamie Quatro.
Please note: Winning and finalist pieces on the site are now publicly viewable.
‘bitterroot’ by Anthony Carter (United States)
This deftly-narrated story opens in medias res: a mother and her two children have just fled their home to escape an abusive husband/stepfather. Now they’re in the car, driving cross-country—and not even the mother knows where they’re headed. The story is told through the eyes of the older child, who is twelve (and whose gender is unspecified). The narrator’s matter-of-fact tone and focus on present-moment details belie the panic and fear roiling just below the surface: “I want him dead,” the narrator says of their stepfather. “I want to stage a revolution inside my conquered home and overthrow them both. Then I will be leader and I won’t marry any bad men or women.” I was captivated not only by the voice in this piece, but by the story’s command of language and image: “Her smile shakes and quivers like a cliff-face about to crumble,” the narrator says of their mother. A stunning interrogation—and illumination—of the ways children use displacement and mythologization to survive trauma.
‘Esther’ by Young dreamer (Nigeria)
This lovely story reads like poetry: an older brother mourns the loss of his younger sister, Esther. The cause of her death is left somewhat hazy, though it seems accidental: perhaps she touched a live electrical wire in the family's unfinished home (ironically in the very room Esther had claimed for her own). The way this piece moves, formally, backward and forward in time—as if time no longer exists—brilliantly captures a mind in the throes of grief. The inclusion of small, tactile details give us a sense of what the brother misses about his sister: her rose scent, her laugh like the whistle of a bird, her untrimmed pinky nails, the nail-scratched name on the wall.
The turn at the story's end from past tense to present—"I remember when" to "I can hear; You are here"—punctuates the grief with a note of hopefulness. A beautiful, heartbreaking piece of fiction.
‘Cigars and Clocks’ reviewed by Jul_ia (Germany)
Fantastic peer review, with comments throughout the text, as well as specific responses to the peer review questions. What I appreciate about this review is the balance of praise and query: "here's what I like, here's what I think your intent is, here's a question I have." Often student reviewers will use language like "I don't get it" or "I don't like her" or "This doesn't work for me" — instead of "I think you might consider" or "I wonder if you might..."
These comments call attention to the places where the writer might consider making changes without being overly critical, employing words like "perhaps" and "maybe you could" — always suggesting, never prescribing. Constructive and supportive. Well done!
‘Sparks’ by thepinkcourtjester (United States)
‘The Deer is Dead’ by lilacwater (Canada)
‘The Boat’ by bookmagic (United States)
‘Bus 221’ by Ava Karlsson Peraldi (Sweden)
‘The Taxidermist’ by ambern (United States)
‘The Avian Job’ by ipsibean13 (United States)
‘Anonymous Profile’ reviewed by Kyle Park (South Korea)