Harry stared at the vast blue sky. He took a deep breath in, and tried to make his way through the throng. He’d never had imagined that his great grand father’s homeland would be so full of life. Most of the other big cities that he had visited with his daughter had seemed densely populated, but the people seemed to be focused on their own business, and trying to become a rich vlogger. Their smartphones were glued to their sides 24/7 which made Harry feel somewhat disconsolate. Yes, he had been a part of the so-called young and upcoming business technology gurus, but that time back then was like a distant nightmare that Harry wanted to forget. The devices that he had helped to create— he had hoped to have seen them being used for the greater good- Samaritan work, Volunteering to plant trees…or maybe he just needed to find a way to get the younger generation into learning how to spend more time in nature: enjoying the view of a beautiful sunrise be it over the ocean/lake, or spending some time with a family of elephants in a rainforest. These were also on his list of activities Harry planned to do with his daughter after his vacation. He gazed around the busy city of Lusaka. He chuckled to himself when he spotted a familiar face, Pamela. She waved at Harry, and he waved back.

Pamela: Mr. Banda…where are you headed today?

Harry: (shakes his head) Well, Hello to you, too, Pamela. I’m surprised you’re already here at KKIA to pick me up. I thought you would be still fast asleep.

Pamela: (grins) Ha! I was…eh kinda. I took a nap while waiting for you to arrive.

Harry: (sighs) This means my daughter won the bet.

Pamela: She’s a smart girl that one.

Harry: Yeah, that she is. She takes after her mother, and grandmother.

Pamela: (chuckles) That is true. Oh, by the way, Fiona wants to know what you’d like to have for breakfast.

Harry: Please tell her not to over cook like she’s serving the King of Nubia. All I need is some toast, scrambled eggs, and a cup of milo. I have to have some milo every morning now thanks to my daughter. (smiles)

Pamela: Aight. I’ll let Fiona know. (clears throat) How’s your wife doing?

Harry: Not so good. She’s still in a coma.

Pamela felt for Harry. She told Harry that she would continue to pray for his wife.

Harry felt his heart sink. He missed his wife’s presence. The memories of that night still lingered in his head— like a heavy fog that seemed to stay, and never vanish even as time- or seasons passed. He had not been at home. He’d decided to continue his work at the office, burning the midnight oil. Then his daughter called him and informed him that her mother had not made it back home from the library. Harry had nearly fainted. He rushed home, and on his way there he had made a call to the police station. The were right on top of it, and searched for his wife’s vehicle. Her body had been found lying still in her car underneath an old bridge. All doors of the vehicle, and most of the front as well looked quite beaten up. His wife had lost a lot of blood from a head, and neck injury. The airbag malfunctioned, and she had lost control of the car after hydroplaning off the road.

Harry took a deep breath. Now was not the time for thinking of his wife’s accident. She was in great hands. Harry and his daughter tried not to worry too much. They also prayed for a speedy recovery. Maybe his wife would be alright before, or by Christmas Day. If that was going to be the case, Harry would immediately cut his vacation time short, and head back home. Meanwhile, he would later check in on his daughter and find out how boarding school was going.

#Mr.HarryBanda

December 3rd, 2024.

Short Fiction Contests

“Fabuly Writer’s Challenge

“Step into Fabuly's writer's challenge and create a short 2,000-word story that focuses on this year's theme: an unexpected encounter. The winner of Fabuly's contest will win $500 and be featured in the mobile app as a professionally illustrated and produced audiobook.

Deadline: December 14, 2024

Prize: $500 and Audiobook production

“Story Shares’ Story of the Year

“It's the seventh annual Story of the Year Contest hosted by Storyshares, featuring up to $15,000 in cash prizes. In addition to the available monetary prize, winners and runners-up will have their works included in the Storyshares library, which currently serves tens of thousands of students worldwide.

Deadline: January 13, 2025

Prize: Up to $15,000 and publication

“Story Unlikely’s Short Story Contest

“The folks at Story Unlikely run a monthly digital magazine that shares a wide range of short stories with no genre restrictions, providing something for nearly every reader. The team also runs its annual short story contest, offering up to $1,500 for the first-place winner and the opportunity to be included in the publication's yearly print magazine.

Deadline: January 21, 2025

Prize: Up to $1,500 and publication

“Arc Manor Books' Mike Resnick Memorial Award

“The Mike Resnick Memorial Award, hosted by Arc Manor Books, is presented to a new science fiction author to reflect upon the American fiction writer of the same name who was nominated for 37 Hugo Awards in his lifetime. Short science fiction works up to 7,499 words can be submitted by authors who have yet to have any work published.

Deadline: To Be Determined (2025)

Prize: $250 and a trophy

“Baen Books' Jim Baen Memorial Short Story Award

“The team at Baen Books' is hosting the Jim Baen Memorial Short Story Award, recognizing a work of science fiction under 8,000 words. The publisher is looking for stories that show manned space exploration in the near future (50-60 years out). Baen notes they want to highlight realistic, optimistic science fiction showcasing our potential future, so no dystopian tales here.

Deadline: February 1, 2025

Prize: Publication with pay and a trophy

General Prose Contests

“Minotaur Books/Mystery Writers of America First Crime Novel Competition

“Minotaur Books, an imprint of Macmillan Books, and the Mystery Writers of America are teaming up to offer a competition highlighting a debut writer's first crime novel. You can submit previously published manuscripts (self-published not permitted) for consideration.

Deadline: December 15, 2024

Prize: $10,000 future royalties advance

“Kinsman Avenue's Stories of Inspiration

“Kinsman Avenue Publishing is running its Stories of Inspiration contest, an opportunity for nonfiction writers. Writers with stories highlighting the struggle and resilience of the human spirit related to marginalized communities' cultures are welcome. Individuals of a BIPOC or underrepresented community are preferred.

Deadline: December 21, 2024

Prize: Publication with pay

“L. Ron Hubbard's Writers of the Future Contest

“Lafayette Ronald Hubbard wrote science fiction and fantasy at the beginning and end of his life. The Writers of the Future Contest was launched in 1983 to highlight aspiring authors in the field of speculative fiction. Today, the contest continues annually, offering the grand prize winner a $5,000 cash prize and trophy.

Deadline: December 31, 2024

Prize: Up to $5,000 and a trophy

“Friends of American Writers Literature Award

“The Friends of American Writers Literature Award focuses on emerging authors whose books focus on the Midwest United States. If you have a book that has already been published, you can submit it for consideration as long as you are a Midwestern resident or your book's setting is within the Midwest.

Deadline: December 2024

Prize: Recognition

Poetry Contests

“Poetry Society of America's Four Quartets Prize

“The Poetry Society of America, founded in 1910, continues its mission of bringing poetry into everyday American life with its Four Quartets Prize. If you are a poet with a complete sequence of poems published in the United States in 2024, you are invited to enter. Finalists receive $1,000 each, with the winner receiving an additional $20,000.

Deadline: December 31, 2024

Prize: Up to $21,000

“Defenestrationism Lengthy Poem Contest

“Based on its name, we cannot think of a better organization to host the Lengthy Poem Contest than Defenstrationsim. Poets are invited to enter a poem of considerable length, at least 120 lines long, for submission. The contest runners will publish the three finalists on the website, and several days of public voting will be available before a winner is announced.

Deadline: January 1, 2025

Prize: $300

The Levis Reading Prize

“The Levis Reading Prize is offered yearly in memory of the Virginia Commonwealth University poet and faculty member. It recognizes the best first or second book of poetry published by a poet. Winners receive an honorarium and are invited, expenses paid, to Richmond, Va., for a public reading the following autumn.

Deadline: January 15, 2025

Prize: Honorarium and an invitation to Richmond

“Note: Before submitting to any writing contest, please carefully review the contest's rules and eligibility. These change regularly, so make sure to confirm that a contest has not instituted submission fees since this article was written.

15th November, 2024

They gathered around in formation— ready to begin their end of the month required meet, sip, & greet. Some had been a part of the group for many chilioi years. Others just enjoyed coming to the meetings to catch up on the latest usual~ some new big shot who was terrorizing the mortals on earth, or the same oldies, but still baddies, who likes to carpe diem through soul gatherings from the wandering souls that unfortunately had to meet the final point of their living thread. Cut short before they even had the time to realize that it was too late. A smaller group gathered much further in the distance, just to see the others all getting ready for the main big heads with their blazing cloaks appear in front of the throng. The silver and golden gongs were struck, and a silence fell over the immortal beings. One of the main big heads, who had feathers pointing out from the what seemed to be his entire body, grinned. He snapped his fingers, and out of nowhere servers appeared ready to provide various fresh kills of the month to the rest of the ones who had gathered. Some of their faces were in shock from what had been served. They had not been provided many rare dishes like this in a long while. Others already felt a sudden kick of hunger— ready to pounce on the plate to quickly tear off the meat off the human bones. As well as enjoy a glass of the leprechaun’s blood that they believed helped them have good fortune for the next millennia. As soon as the full moon appeared they began their feast, and they even got to have a taste of yeast breads.

#CORVUS ©️

Saturday, 30 March, 2024

Song: (RRH)

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=AqSOTpBmYhQ&pp=ygUUUmVkIGhhbmQgc29uZyBseXJpY3M%3D

From the top of the tallest hill, they could almost see the whole village— sights of lots of folks scurrying to the market ready to grab the fresh, new farmer’s healthy crops, fruits and vegetables- to the hustle, and bustle of even many more rowdier folks heading to the alehouse (the group that did not care for anything healthy to eat, or even drink like water). Their kaleidoscope and mirror like cloaks which made it easier for them to blend in their surroundings waved back, and forth in the beastly like super gale. The wind kept picking up- becoming stronger, and stronger with every passing quarter of an hour. The folks in the village did not seem to mind at all that a fierce storm was on the way. Even the waves that were not too far from the village rose higher, & much higher than the tallest hill in the village. While the village folks continued with their day, the cloaked strangers gave each other a slight nod, and carried on their leisurely stroll slowly down the tallest hill. One of them went toward the edge of the village, and toward the open sea to focus on guiding the waves. The other cloaked figure made his way toward the village. A few of the folks who were by the sea felt a sudden great powerful wave of heat coming from the sea. They spotted a kind of heavy mist emerging from the depths of the waters. The mist rose and soon covered the vast space by the edge of the village. It continued to move and when it reached close to the folks by the water’s edge, their bodies could not handle the heat from the mist, and their skin melted off their human bones. Their screams were heard all the way from the center of the village. Those in the alehouse quivered with each sip of their liquor, and wondered what kind of daemon could be roaming about in the human world at this kairos. The earth began to shake, even the folks in the alehouse felt the ground beneath their feet begin to quake. After the passing of the mist, snowflakes descended upon the village. It covered the entire land starting from the tallest hill, to the market, and the now sleeping waters by the edge of the now still, quiet village. The gods from the underworld had had their fill. After they had had their hunger satisfied, their harbingers of khaos returned to their own realm~ one that always just seemed to be shifting in all elemental forms, and had been around even before the beginning of time and space.

#CORVUS ©️ 23rd Jan. 2024

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=D7xkAjHbMnY

https://www.littletokyohs.org/

“The Little Tokyo Historical Society has organized this free short story contest in two categories: English and Japanese.

“These short stories should be set in the Little Tokyo district of Los Angeles and reflect the neighborhood’s culture.

Word count: 2,500

Prizes: 2 prizes of $500

Entry: Free!

Closing date: 29 February 2024

https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5e48e271878c9b6addebcf5b/19120900-7ad7-46f6-a019-0993e9cb9be3/Imagine+Little+Tokyo+Generic+Horizontal.png?format=750w

“Guidelines:

• “The story must be original, fictional, written in either Japanese or English by the submitting author and never been published (even online).The use of generative artificial intelligence and plagiarism in the creation of submitted stories is prohibited. Please contact the organizers at imaginelittletokyo@gmail.comfor any clarifications.

• “The same story submitted in a previous year cannot be resubmitted.

• “The setting of the story should be in Little Tokyo – either past, present or future.

• “Submitted manuscript should be 2,500 words or less for English or 5,000 ji or less for Japanese and have a title.

• “File should be a Microsoft Word doc, docx or rtf.

• “For English-language entries, please use 12 point font, preferably Times Roman or Courier type and double space.

• “Please remove any mention of your name from your short story, including headers.

• “The short story manuscript must be submitted digitally as an e-mail attachment to Imaginelittletokyo@gmail.com (include SHORT STORY  in the subject line). In the e-mail message, please include your name,phone number and age if 18 or under.

• “The submissions should include a signed agreement, which can be found on the Little Tokyo Historical Society website. The agreement can be either e-mailed or sent via US Postal Service.

• “Submissions need to be e-mailed by February 29, 2024, 12 midnight PST. NO EXCEPTIONS.

•“Immediate family members of judges (first-round or final) are ineligible.”

N.B:

https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5e48e271878c9b6addebcf5b/t/658285017395aa270b85ddf2/1703052545067/LTHS%2B-%2BImagine%2BLittle%2BTokyo%2BShort%2BStory%2BContest%2BAgreement%2Bform%2BEnglish%2B2024.doc

“Little Tokyo Historical Society Short Story Contest Agreement

Author: ________________________

Name of Work: ________________________

• “If your submitted short story wins first place for the Youth, English Language or Japanese Language categories, you will receive a monetary prize of $500 after providing an e-mail of acceptance and biographical information for publication purposes.

• “For this prize, the Little Tokyo Historical Society will receive the non-exclusive right to use for our promotional purposes, including the publication in The Rafu Shimpo newspaper, the Discover Nikkei website, and the Little Tokyo Historical Society website.  All other rights will remain with you.

• “Contest winners will be invited and encouraged to attend an awards ceremony in Little Tokyo to be held in summer 2024.

• “If you have incorporated in the Work any copyrightable material, please provide written permission to reprint or use the materials with this form.

“Your signature signifies that you agree to all the terms outlined on this form.  Your signature warrants and represents that you are the sole creator of the above mentioned work and that you own all rights to it, that it is an original creation that has never been published (even online), that it does not infringe any other person’s copyrights, nor to your knowledge does it violate the rights or privacy of, or libel, other persons. You also did not usegenerative AI in the creation of this story.

“If you are 18 or younger, please give us your birthdate __/__/__, and have your parent/guardian sign for you.

__________________________

Signature​Date

Name: __________________________

Address: __________________________

Telephone number: __________________________

E-mail: __________________

“Please tell us how you heard about this contest:__________________________________

“Your short story submission will not be accepted unless accompanied with this completed Agreement Form.”

—25th January, 2024, -Monday.

The sound of the drums

Echoed in the air

My body moved toward

The sound of the drums

Out of many, one

Chosen to be a

Sacrifice to the

Out of many, gods

Adrenaline rushed

Forth like a flood

The other time my

Adrenaline failed me

This time I will try

To save the young baby

From dancing with death

This time I will not fail

Out of the others

This one is most painful

Because that child

Their holding captive—

~Is mine-

O, come on feet

Don’t falter now

Help me make it

To save my little one!

#Epluribusunum ©️ 13.01.2023

‘’Call for Submissions: 9th Annual Stephen A. DiBiase Poetry Contest

Submissions open on November 1, 2023, with a deadline at 11:59 pm EST on January 15, 2024.

$600 for first place, $400 for second, $300 for third, $200 for fourth and additional cash awards for honorable mentions.

Prize-winning and final poems results will be listed and published on the contest website in March 2024. Published final poems will be paid for.

There are no entry fees.

There is a one poem/one submission limit. The poem must be in English. Do not put your name on the poem. Otherwise, there are no limitations or restrictions. But please proofread your poem before submission. We welcome submissions from all ages and all countries. Submission gives your consent for us to publish your poem.

To submit your poem, fill out the form on the website. Please note that submissions that do not include at least an email address and a residence address (minimum of City, State, and Country) will not be read.’’

https://dibiasepoetry.com/submit/

01.06.2024 Sat’rday.

Warning— events that are shared here are not for children- parts of the story contain scenes that are required only for a mature audience, please. Thank you.

(Based on a true story).

__________________________

The young woman had given birth to what her mother-in-law, and husband were not pleased to be related to. Her child was born with a skin condition that made him look different from his parents. The young mother was tossed out of her own home that she shared with her husband. Now she had to find a way to make ends meet with her newborn far away from her husband, and his family. She was placed in a taxi, and later the young taxi driver who felt sorry for her ended up helping her. Then after a little while of them becoming really good friends, they end up together. The young woman always keeps her child indoors, and doesn’t want other folks to make fun of his skin condition. Her new husband advises her against this. Then sometime later, she finally agrees to even let her child attend a government school. One day as her boy makes his way back home for school with his friend, a small group of mischiefs capture him, and try to chop off the kid’s legs. Luckily for him his close friend was with him, and she managed to escape running off to call her friend’s parent/mother. Together they rushed to the boy’s rescue, and with the help of a group of good samaritans managed to save him from no longer seeing the light of day. Sadly, the kid’s parents (biological mother and step-father) as they made their way to check out a new place they had wanted to call their new home had been hit, and passed away on the spot in a car crash. Their child had to be taken to his biological father now— who just happened to be living a new, and his best life- and still did not acknowledge his first born child. His new and living trophy wife was not fond of her new step-child. She managed to make it seem like her step-son had stolen money from her, and this had made the boy’s father full of rage. He took the kid to his new bedroom, and with his belt hit his own child. The kid was miserable, and felt like he was living in a stranger’s house~ and not a place that felt like a loving home. His step-mom convinced her husband that the boy needed to be taken to boarding school. Once there he felt like he was at a good place, and he was not sad anymore. Even the kids there treated him much better than his own Dad, and step-mom ever did. He had step-siblings, but even they had been quite terrible company. The boy grew into a hardworking, and handsome gentleman who enjoyed listening to music, as well as playing the guitar, and singing, too (which he had learned from a neighbor of his during his childhood). He became famous from his first single, and was inspired to continue singing from a close friend of his who he had met at the boarding school, much to his delight. He was glad to have seen her after such a very long time. His father showed up out of the blue for his son’s first local stage performer of his single/new song. He even apologized for how he had treated his own flesh, and blood. The young man embraced his Dad, and smiled. He grabbed his guitar, and went to sing his heart out on stage for all of his local fans.

#TiensMaBière (#HoldMyBeer).

The stranger crouched lower to the ground, and waited. He took a deep breath, and listened for the sounds of wings gathering their momentum. He waited, and waited, for the sound of the bird’s beak trying to pierce its way out of the dark, molten cracked mound. A smile did not form along his face. All he wanted to do was to complete his current assignment. He took another deep breath, and then slowly pushed his hands into the cracking ground. He felt the sudden cries of the souls from the other side, yearning to find their way back to earth. But he was not here to gather all these lost souls. Au contraire. His one task was to simply wait for the return of the one who would bring about a long era of chaos across the vast number of realms, kingdoms, including the villages in Ingenu. The bird cawed from the first taste of the rich, and dewy air. Storm clouds had seemed to stay all day as if they were shedding tears on behalf of the lost souls’ kith, and kin. The stranger who was dressed in a shiny silver coat bent a bit backward, and stared into the cloudy sky. Raindrops dripped along the sides of his eyes making it look like he had been sobbing all day. His hands reached for the bird’s throat, and he snapped it in two. Then waited, waited, and waited—until the bird cracked its neck- slowly turning its head back into place. The stranger now smiled like a Cheshire Cat, and vanished leaving behind a little present for the bird. There before the bird’s dark starry eyes stood a newborn. It cooed, and babbled. The bird flapped it’s wings, and merged its body with the baby’s own.

#CORVUS ©️

28.12.2023

The raindrops fell as if God’s wrath was upon mankind like the time of Noah. She dragged herself, with all her might into the cantine. The grand smells of sweet honeycomb biscuits, flavorful bursting gumdrops, the leaning tower of pancakes, the glowing silver and gold chocolate drinks made her mouth water. She was not supposed to be there, but some of her friends had kept talking about all the fun they’d had when they’d been at the cantine. She rushed into the noisy and music filled scene. Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she hoped she’d brought enough koins to get some of the stuff sold in the buzzing place. Someone bumped into her, and she almost fell onto the floor. Before she could even realize that she was falling, a pair of hands were wrapped around her waist.

‘‘Whoa…please let go of me..now.’’

A voice slightly chuckled like a silly little kid, and then said,

‘‘Whoops. My bad. Just didn’t want you to slip, and fall onto the brick floor. C’mon. I’ll have to get you a drink now to make up for bumping into you…eh..’’

Before he could say another word, or find out who she was— he watched her storm away from her. Something inside of him felt as if he’d been hit with a wave of pixie dust, and he could soon float into the air like Peter Pan. He dashed after her, and cleared his throat once he was right behind her.

‘‘Okay. I might have you know- I am a master of the dark arts. I can turn you into a toad, or much worse: a snail.’’

He snorted, and then raised an eyebrow. ‘‘Yeah. Sure.’’

She sighed. With a wave of her hand, a blanket of fog started to surround his body. He started coughing, and felt jolts of lightning swirling around him. What kind of severe thunderstorm was he trapped in this time? It felt unnatural.

His lungs began to slowly collapse. She mumbled something underneath her breath, but he could hardly hear what she said as his ears were filled with something inside of them that was wiggling about. When he tried to check, using his thumb and index finger, he managed to pull something out of his left ear— a giant earthworm. Blood oozed out of his ears, and gradually dripped along the side of his fake beard.

The fog swirled around him with a much greater velocity. Soon his heart started to beat much slower. He turned to face her, but all he could see was a skull with swirling dark eye sockets like the eye of a black hole.

#CORVUS ©️

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=OZF2GCwpogI

21.12.2023 Thorsday