101-word-fiction contest results

The 101-word fiction contest has become one of our favorite traditions here at Boulder Weekly. It’s a chance for us to read the best flash fiction from writers in Boulder County and beyond. Maybe it’s because the pandemic shut writers inside their homes and kept them in front of their computer screens for weeks, but this crop of submissions were some of the best we’ve received in the six years BW has held this contest.

Here are the nuts and bolts of how we determined the top 20 entries:

As in years prior, each writer was limited to five submissions — many of the writers who entered the contest submitted more than one piece this year.

There were four judges who assigned a score between one and five on each entry. It was a blind process, as the name of the writer was stripped from each entry before reading. We only learned of the winning identities after tallying the scores, which is why you’ll see some writers appear more than once in the list of winners.

We ended up with five winners, six honorable mentions and nine additional finalists, however, there were plenty more we wished we could have included. The top 20 finishers have been published here and online.

Thanks to all who participated in this contest. We hope you enjoy this year’s selections as much as we did. We’re already looking forward to the next batch in 2021.

FIRST PLACE

Untitled

Doralee wheeled her chair down the hall. “I’m going home,” she said. At the door, an alarm sounded and a harried attendant took the handles of the chair. “Let’s go to the dining room,” he said. “It’s almost time for lunch.”

After her meal, Doralee sat by her window. She said to the nurse’s aide, “I’ll be leaving soon.”

— John LeMay

SECOND PLACE

Prologue

She sat on the beach. Waves washed around her feet. She was dropped off here randomly. Mangroves and seagulls surrounded her. Rolled over on the sand and watched the sunrise. Odd start to the day. Odd start to a new life.

— Cyndy Van Sant

THIRD PLACE

The Last Animal

The last animal died on August 17, 2213. After years of debate, the WGO finally ruled the resources needed to maintain DeAnne the dolphin and her 9 square meter tank were no longer justifiable according to World Law. There was no formality to the euthanasia, yet it appeared ceremonious due to the massive media presence and 24-billion worldwide screen viewership. DeAnne’s body was immediately delivered to a local energy port and reutilized into the System. The site was deemed residentially viable, so construction on a 300-floor studio tower began that afternoon.

—Thomas Fuller

FOURTH PLACE

I like it like this

Commute time 12.23 seconds. Dress code minimal. Service level outstanding. Price of lunch under $2. Interruptions slight. Background noise arcadian. Hair messy. Communications prompt. Window view mountains. Music selection eclectic. Chores list checked. Exercise frequently. Meal prep handy. Overtime acceptable. Road rage nonexistent. Laptop never forgotten. Soulmate nearby. Comfort zone adjustable. Stairs to climb none. Razor blades reduced. Happy hour flexible. Zoom meetings mutable. Shower optional. Warm sunshine. Cool breeze.

—BR Holland

FIFTH PLACE

Cinderella69

Don’t know what my dad looks like. Mom just said that he was a friend of Richie Havens,” Ionia told Charlie.

She was standing in his art shop on Tinker Street and searching a photograph of the Woodstock Festival. The lilt in her voice reminded Charlie of his sister, when they were children. A bird singing at dawn.

“After it rained, the concert grounds were a big mud pie. My mom’s left shoe got sucked off. She never got it back.”

Charlie stared at her. There was a muddy shoe, from the 1969 festival, hidden in his closet.

—Kristen Marshall