by Editor
on July 31, 2022
HONORABLE MENTION, SUMMER 2022
THE SCREW TURN FLASH FICTION COMPETITION
BY TIMOTHY BOUDREAU
“These plums look like the dusty balls of a dead dude,” Eucalyptus said. She bit one, licked at a bead of clear juice in the corner of her mouth, tossed the plum across the yard. Charley watched it roll into a pile of wet leaves.
Charley remembers the blue veins on the inside of her chubby wrists, delicate ankle bones, smoky taste of her teeth, what she said about his aunt’s plums. When he’s with her it’s eternal autumn, the last time they were together. Sparse leaves, chilling rain. He doesn’t know about her winters, her summers, if she still wears her grandmother’s wool scarf when the real cold comes, or swims drunk in a t-shirt in the river.
Back in the day they sailed on a single Oxy all afternoon. Two dropouts, girl in a baseball cap with an oval pink face, boy in a hoody with a double chin. “Ha fuck, look at this, hey shit it’s a Frisbee.” Eucalyptus flipped a round piece of wood at a blue jay. Charley followed close, along the river path, past pale ghostly leaves on fragile rippling trees.
What it feels like to be dead: chills, fog, ache of sleep deprivation. Charley lingers in the sun streaming through her grandmother’s window—but it’s not warm at all.
“They’re from my aunt’s tree,” he told her. “She thought you and your gram might like them.” [continue reading…]
by Editor
on July 30, 2022
HONORABLE MENTION, SUMMER 2022
THE SCREW TURN FLASH FICTION COMPETITION
BY MEG JOHNSON
Windex gets stains out of carpets, if you get to them soon enough. If you need to get blood out of a sheet, wash it in cold water first. Those awful brown paper towels that tear up bleach-dried knuckles are perfect for cleaning mirrors without leaving streaks. The trick to folding a fitted sheet is that the corners are not where you think they are. You can unclog a drain with vinegar and baking soda.
Aubrey ran through all the things she wished she’d been taught her first day so she could pass them on to the newly hired housekeeper. Hair slipped out of her ponytail and into her face as she scrubbed her ninth toilet of the day. She tried to move it aside without touching it, so as not to get toilet water in her hair. There was probably already toilet water in her hair. She sprayed the shower with the foamy bleach that would sting her eyes and stain her clothes and linger in her nostrils. She wiped the plastic walls in an accustomed rhythm, in tune with her thoughts.
She would fill her in on the customers too, most of them regulars.
The men in 107 are hiding weed in their dresser. The couple in 103 is married—but not to each other. The woman in 207 is going to stain the towels with mascara, just like she does every time she drives from Canada to visit her boarding-school basketball star. Clean 106 first, even though it’s not first on the list, because if you’re not done before he returns, he’ll make you listen to his karaoke recordings. And you’ll have to smile and say it sounds nice. 105 has a dog, even though no dogs are allowed. But he tips well, so he doesn’t have a dog. 110 is going to a wedding. They will come back drunk. You will be cleaning up vomit. Do not go in 209. They will come to you if they need towels. They will need towels.
Aubrey hung a shower curtain with a practiced motion, sliding each loop onto a hook and each hook onto the rod. She positioned it just so and left a tiny, perfumy bar of soap on the edge of an intricately folded towel.
When you clean 212, there will be long black hair caught up in the vacuum when you’re done. No matter how much we clean we still find more. It’s happened since the girl overdosed in bed and the whole hotel woke to her sister’s screams. Rachel says in 211 you can hear laughter sometimes even if no one is there. [continue reading…]
by Editor
on July 24, 2022
Our New Permanent Four-Season Schedule
There’s a lot going on with The Ghost Story these days, now that we’ve added a summer edition of Screw Turn Flash Fiction Competition (for which the deadline recently closed). Not only will we be announcing and publishing the winner and honorable mentions of our new flash contest on July 31—but the very next day, on August 1, we’ll be OPENING submissions to the Fall 2022 Ghost Story Supernatural Fiction Award competition for full-length short stories (first prize $1,500 plus print and online publication; two honorable mentions each receive $300 plus publication.
Deadline for the Supernatural Fiction Award is September 30—with an October 31 announcement and publication of the winners.
So don’t forget to check back with us on August 1 to read the winners of the summer flash competition, and/or to enter your story in the Supernatural Fiction Award contest.
And if you’d like to see our complete and permanent deadlines and publications schedule . . . keep reading! [continue reading…]
by Editor
on June 6, 2022
A New Summer Flash Fiction Contest
Until now, we’ve run The Screw Turn Flash Fiction Competition only once a year, in the dead of winter. We’ve accepted submissions from December through January, with the winner and honorable mentions announced and published on Valentine’s Day.
But starting right now, with our new Summer Flash Contest, we’re doing it twice a year. Same guidelines, same word length . . . with a July 15 deadline and winning pieces presented to the world on July 31, just before the August 1 opening of our Fall Supernatural Fiction Award competition for full-length short stories.
The new Flash event now gives us an uncanny-story contest for each season of the year—flash fiction in the winter and summer, and full-length stories in the fall and spring.
If you like flash fiction—and particularly if you like to write flash fiction—the guidelines are only a click away.
Cheers —— The Editor
