Mini-Contest #18

The 18th mini-contest was held in August 2012. This mini-contest asked contestants to tell, show, or evoke a complete story that places a special emphasis on one or more colors. We wanted writers to get the idea of the color(s) across to us readers clearly and powerfully, in an innovative way.

Here are our winners, then our honorable mentions.

Third Place ($5) by Kerry Chafin

Celia swallowed hard when she saw the newly remodeled room done in every variation of pink imaginable. A sickening collage of frill and froth that made Celia’s teeth ache. “Are you selling Mary Kay now?” Celia could only think that her friend’s quick peal of giggling matched the décor perfectly.

Second Place ($10) by C. R. Hodges

Our ever-reddening hair provided comic relief over that first year of winter. Toenails too, especially on the guys. Maroon eyeballs, however, were disgusting. The omnipresent fines rouged soy patties, tinted recycled water, stained bulkheads. And corroded electronics. Being stranded on Mars was horrific; peeing red was worse.

First Place ($15) by Ellen Denton

The blind boy groped on the ground for the quarter he’d dropped. He found it and smiled at its familiar, bright, yellow color. He knew quarters were yellow because they were warm in his hand. At age three, before he lost his sight, he had seen and felt the sun.

Honorable Mentions (no money, just fame)

Three other entries scored highly enough to earn honorable mentions.

Ellie’s husband thought wearing a grape juice maroon necktie daring. She dreamed of a man unafraid of a red so hot it could singe your eyebrows. But when Sam woke and kissed her, she knew red was for a mid-life crisis sports car. Maroon offered substance.
(by Wayne Scheer)

Red-blue-yellow-green. I found them in that order.

One under the sofa, two between cracks in the warped floorboards, the fourth in my schoolbox along with Elmer’s glue.

With them I created bright blue castles and dragons as red as clowns’ rubber noses.

Like my dreams, time had melted them. Crayola-vivid.
(by Beverly Forehand)

The viewscreen showed a microscopic blue—Ben stared. The right blue, produced by life. The trip out had taken too long. He’d seen red suns, green nebulae, black holes—from a distance. None looked this perfect, a blue made from air and water. Ben smiled, the blue of home grew.
(by Louis Doggett)

Congratulations to the winners and our sincere thanks to everyone who entered the mini-contest.