Congratulations to SP Mount, the winner of our weekly Flash Fiction competition and thanks to everyone who participated – excellent entries!
The winning entry is rewarded with a special feature here today and a place in our collection of winners which will be published as an e-book at year end.
Without further ado, here’s the winning entry:
by SP Mount
The smoke. Yes, mysterious vapour harmlessly attacking the ozone, but layer of deceit; I know, for I cannot be effortlessly bamboozled, not since I started taking my meds. ‘The Talented’ ploy with no more substance than ‘Mr Ripley’, ‘Lost’ now, dead, like ‘The Others’, but he’d been a fool, a fool, only ‘FOOLS Rush In’.
Yes, the smoke, the smoke will lead the way to their anti-establishment faction. I must pursue the chemical hazard of undulating frenzy where it digs a path, for I WILL expose their clandestine goings-on to the world once-and-for-all – if the battery on my iPhone 5 holds out, for not ONE man along this perilous expedition owns an appropriate charger. But still, undeterred, is my ‘Mission Impossible’.
Alluring, the smoke’s captivating industriousness, ingeniously designed; disguising malevolent intent, and soon, ye-s SOON, it will strangle my soul, clutch my individuality deep within its mainstream heart, strangle my ‘Free Willy’, alter my mindset with contagious mists of reason so that then, yes, THEN, I may go forth like ‘Sean of the Living Dead’ and spread tale as an 18th century villager who habitually spreads intimate or private rumors or facts. Oh… if ONLY there were one word that would describe such a creature, just ONE word that I may use others more effectively. Or… then again, maybe I’ll just go there in the little white van, for I hear its four-sided wheels a-clunkin’. Ye-s, that’ll whisk me asunder.
“Your birthday cake is BURNING!” I scream.
Oh, the smoke.