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12 picks. Then we handed the stories over to the experts, starting with Kevin Barclay of the Deschutes Public Library. "I looked for stories that were able to develop mood, character and plot quickly and then let them unfold naturally. I loved being surprised by twists and the unexpected," said Barclay. Many of the stories did an excellent job at creating tension and urgency. ""Flash fiction is tricky. Its success hinges on the full articulation of a split second, a moment that stays with you long after you've scanned the page," said Hinrichs. "For me, this image is key, and needs to be vibrant and resonant in some way. Whether that's through description, a turn of phrase, or a snippet of brilliant dialogue, a good piece of flash should linger like a bell gong, the telescopic truth of it outpacing its short form. "Thank you for your submissions and enjoy some locally grown fiction! Winners can pick up their prizes at our office. Val shrugged. Either she'd make it to her camp behind the overpass, a sweet spot under the junipers where she could see out but no one could see in; or she'd be back here, sharing a cell with someone who hopefully wasn't a complete nutcase.
celebration of autumn rolling in, the Source asked our readers to snuggle up with a pen and paper (or more likely their laptops) and write us a flash fiction masterpiece based on one of three writing prompts:We received dozens of entries enough, none of them about vampires our editorial staff narrowed down to our top Air Max Atmos
Val had seen her once at the Safeway parking lot, inside a car with a man. They were fighting. Ms. Brown jumped out and the car sped off, leaving her alone and crying. At 10:00 am it was already sweltering as Val stepped off the highway and cut through the sagebrush to her camp. Her sleeping bag was still tucked behind a rock. By now Ms. Brown would have called Val's probation officer, who'd be filing another warrant. Val sank down in the shade beneath the trees, her belly full of shop lifted chips and soda. In the branches overhead, a red wing blackbird rustled and trilled. Closing her eyes, she pulled the sounds over her like a blanket and soon, she was asleep.
dying in a city I never visited. Instead of that room being empty of one person, two people weren't occupying it. There wasn't him and there wasn't you. I didn't adjust my plans, I didn't finish my drink an.