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Prompt One

SOUTH REGION | First Round

Mister James

G. Warlock Vance

University of North Carolina at Greensboro

James heard the annoying chirp of the cell phone knowing it was one of the two CEOs from the Selma Corporation.  He knew he ought to remember the guy’s name, but it wouldn’t come to him.  The other one had been called Aickman.  He knew that because he’d just shot him in the head and dumped the body in a landfill near the west...

...The voice was that of a man who would surely die of a heart attack before reaching his fiftieth year unless he learned to relax.  Breathe, thought James, but whether he’d meant it toward his client or to himself as an exercise in patience he could not be certain.

“No, don’t worry about it,” he said.

The high-pitched tone which squeaked through the receiver in a tinny whine let James know that the party was far from reassured.  He listened to what amounted to a ludicrous diatribe—the person trying to come to terms with his guilt even though he’d hired James to carry out the dirty work.

“Mm hmm,” he agreed, nodding his head slightly even though the listener could not see him.  He’d gotten into the habit of doing this during that period of his life when he’d lived in Japan—when he’d trained for just this sort of thing.

“Don’t worry about it, everything’s fine,” James growled, “now get off the fuckin’ line before it is no longer fine and I have to do to you what you paid me to do to Aickman.”

There was a moment of silence—one blessed instant where it seemed as if the entire world disappeared.  James basked in that serenity.  To achieve a similar state of calm nothingness was his aspiration.  To find a blissful state of solitude where he could read novels, meditate on his own omphalos-like point of peace, and where—

But the asshole was back, simpering into the line…

Samson

Vanessa Cutler

University of Miami

On the day that Elijah Samson’s whole life changed, the weather had been spectacular, too good for that rushed period of time between the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. After a tiring day in school, Elijah decided to skip the bus and decline the offers of rides from his friends to take advantage of the cloudless blue sky and the gentle breeze that broke the...

...She beamed with pride, and Quentin smiled, too, reaching for his mother’s face and jabbing his fingers into her chin. His father had left town on a big football scholarship right after the birth.

“He’s cute,” Elijah said, guiding the child’s hand away from Vivianne’s face, and brushing her lips with the backs of his fingers. “I saw Jerome on television last weekend.”

Vivianne rolled her eyes. “He never sends anything for Quentin. I gotta do everything myself.” She adjusted the child on her hips, and Elijah dropped his little hand.

“Oh.”

“Sometimes Miss Smith comes down to see him, but nothing more.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a cell phone and started dialing. “I heard he’s driving one of those big Fords now and can’t even send something back for his son.”

“Vivianne! Get in here and press the clothes!” her mother yelled from the porch. “You don’t got no business being outside!” She slammed the door shut and went back inside.

Vivianne pursed her lips, holding the phone to her ear. “Baby,” she cooed into the mouth piece, “where you at? I’ve been waiting for a long time, and I’m hungry,” she purred, hanging up the call and putting the phone back into her pocket. “I gotta go ‘lijah. but you gotta come by more often,” she said, touching his chest and batting her eyelashes at him before...

Prompt One, South Region, Round 1.

"Mister James" by Vance [53.4%]

"Samson" by Cutler [46.6%]

Go to Round 2