FLASH CHALLENGE: August '09

[kailhofer]

The "Do Over" Challenge:



What if you had one risk-free chance to undo any mistake you had made? What would you do with that?

Would you keep the mistake the way it was, or would you go for broke and try to undo the misstep? What if you could lift a burden from your heart that you'd kept inside your whole life. Wouldn't you want to?

That chance is at the heart of this month's challenge, which is obviously about time travel. The wrinkle is that your character can't change history, or at least, major history. Other than that, everything's game.

See the example at the end of this post for a possibility.


REQUIREMENTS: (1) Your time-traveling story must be about a risk-free chance to undo a mistake of the past; (2) For whatever reason, your character must be unable to alter the major events of history or the universe; (3) 1,000 words or less, not counting title, byline, or "The End"; (4) The characters, setting, and story must be fictional and not previously published, even in these challenges; (5) One entry per author; (6) Give your story a title and a byline; and (7) Keep it mostly clean, rated PG-13.

If, in my judgment, any requirement is missed, I won't post the story for voting. Sorry, but rules are for everyone.

HOW TO ENTER: Stories must be sent by PRIVATE MESSAGE, and NOT posted into a thread. Just click the 'PM' button at the bottom of this post and paste your story in the message. You are responsible for doing your own formatting, and leave an extra line between paragraphs, just like when you see them in the 'zine. I will allow different colors, but not changed fonts or sizes, artwork, or any other embedded or external links.

DO NOT send a regular email to me.

Stories will be posted "blind"--without the author's name on them. All the story titles are literally tossed into a hat and chosen at in random order. When the poll closes after the voting week, I'll post a list of the stories and who wrote them. All entries will then be reposted in the Flash Archive with the author's byline.

Entries from new authors are strongly encouraged. C'mon. Give it a try!

NOTE: ONLY REGISTERED MEMBERS who have posted at least one message may submit a story. Without that one post, the system will not let you send a PM.

DEADLINE: Stories should be in by 9 p.m. Central Standard Time (GMT-5), Thursday, Aug. 20th, 2009. The stories will then be posted for voting at 10 p.m. Voting will close automatically on Aug. 26th at approximately 10 p.m., GMT-5.

VOTING: You must register to vote. One vote per user (that is, per ip address).

If more than two stories are tied at the end of voting, there will be a succession of one-day runoff votes until a single winner is chosen or the number of winners is reduced to two.

WHAT YOU WIN: Writers get improved short fiction skills, increasing their chances in the marketplace, without the lengthy investment in time a longer story would take. That, as well as bragging rights and pride--there is stiff competition each month amongst some great stories.

LEGAL STUFF: Aphelion will not try to make a dime off you or your stories. Really. We want to see you succeed but nothing about that will line any of our pockets. We love fiction and we love seeing authors get better to the point where people do pay them for their stories. That's why we're in this.

I'll try to do my best lawyer impersonation: By entering this or any challenge you are technically granting Aphelion: The Webzine of Science Fiction and Fantasy perpetual electronic rights only to post and archive your challenge entry. We'd rather not lay any claim on them at all, but by posting them on a public site, they'd legally count as being published no matter what.

Ok. A real lawyer would have been less interesting. I tried.


Example story, not eligible for entry:



It's About Time

By:
N.J. Kailhofer



All he had to do is that one thing, and it would all be over. Nothing hanging over his head.

Diane smiled. A lock of brown hair tumbled in front of her eyes. "It's a dream deal. No strings attached. No mess, no muss."

"No mas."

"C'mon, Bill," she said. "You and I started this together. You get that first trip."

"Suppose it killed me, or worse. What if you're wrong, and we unravel everything?"

She sighed. "We've been over that a thousand times. It can't happen. On your first trip, you can make small changes, but you cannot disturb the major events of the time-space continuum as they are indexed. Can't. Time won't let you. Not at all. Can't kill someone. Can't stop a baby from being born. Can't prevent Columbus from crossing the ocean to the New World. But you can fix a little mistake between people who already interact like forgetting to call your mother on her birthday or making up with an old friend after an argument... or just maybe me stepping off a curb. That was a little thing. Just a step. On a second trip, time becomes so sensitive to your presence that every microscopic interaction with the past causes a reaction. They build on themselves until our reality tears itself apart. You only get one chance."

She took Bill's hand and looked into his eyes. "Don't you remember what it was like our first time? Or before I was stuck in this chair?"

She patted the tall wheels at her side and held the back of his hand against her chest. Bill could feel the softness of her breast underneath her shirt and the pounding of her heart. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes. "I want another memory of us making love while I still could. Please, Bill. Go back in time and give me that memory, and if you can, stop me from being in that accident."

[align=center]***[/align]

They hit it off fast. She was a physics graduate student with a hot body, researching some theoretical nonsense about time. He worked construction, tanned and buff. One chance meeting in a bar turned into one-night stand that went on, and on. They didn't even come up for air for two days. They spent more of the first two weeks naked than dressed.

It was hot that day, so he took off his shirt. He pounded away with a jackhammer on a sidewalk next to the campus. She was walking with a friend, carrying way too many books. He waved. She didn't see him. He switched off the hammer and waved with both hands, yelling.

Her eyes lit up. She patted her friend on the arm and pointed to him. She waved, and then trotted toward him.

Right in front of the car, a red Taurus.

He ran.

All the sound of the world stopped. Her body crumpled to the side in slow motion, her head off the hood, and then she tumbled over the car. Her body lay in the street. He reached her first and she grabbed his hand.

"Bill!" Her body was a mask of terror and confusion. "Don't leave me alone. Whatever you do, don't leave me alone! Promise me."

He swallowed hard. "I promise."

She slumped. He thought she was dead, but she was still breathing. Sirens. People yelling. Everything blurred for him until she was being loaded into the ambulance and he was standing there, talking to a cop.

"She was crossing the street to see me. I called to her, and she stepped in front of the car. This was my fault. If I hadn't yelled, she'd be fine."

The cop mumbled something about it just being an accident, but Bill didn't listen. At the hospital, he found out she could breathe ok, and had use of her arms, but nothing below that. There wasn't anything they could do about it.

He stayed with her through the recovery and rehab. Married her and provided for her. He stood beside her as she got her Ph.D. and got a grant to do exotic research.

He helped her with experiments. Bathed her. Carried her to bed and helped her up again every day. He stayed as she grew more and more bitter, more desperate. In every way, he was the best husband he could be to her.

[align=center]***[/align]

The bar by the MIT campus was crowded, just as it was that night. It smelled like all college bars, too much alcohol and too many young people close together. From where he was in the back corner booth, Bill could see his younger self sitting with his pal, Jerry. They were eyeing up the brunette and the blonde at the bar. The younger Bill got up and headed for the restroom.

Bill saw his chance. He took the urinal next to himself.

"Buddy," he said. "I got something to tell you, and it's the most important thing you'll ever hear."

The younger version of himself goggled. "W-Who are you?"

Bill sighed. "I'm you. Look, shut up and listen. When you play rock, paper, scissors with Jerry, pick paper. Remember that. If you pick paper, you'll get the blonde. If you pick scissors, you'll live in misery for the next twenty years."

Bill pushed the rinse button and walked out, leaving his younger self open-mouthed with amazement.

A moment later, his mind filled with the memories of Diane's accident being caused by Jerry yelling to her instead of him and being best man at their wedding. Bill experienced his own wedding to the blonde, Linda, in a flash. A moment later, he felt himself sweeping back through time toward his present day.

He told thought to himself, You can only make a little change. I didn't leave her alone. I kept my promise.


A moment later, he added, I better get Linda pregnant before Jerry messes with this.


[align=center]The End[/align]

[kailhofer]

Looks like three so far.

I've been hammered by a tremendous bout of real life all week, but hope to get them read tonight & let the author's know if everything is hunky and/or dory.

Nate

[Robert_Moriyama]

If I had a chance to do something over, maybe I would have become a bodybuilder!

Hmm. 16 words. I don't think that QUITE qualifies as an entry. Maybe if you "fleshed it out" a little... ("Fleshed out"..."bodybuilder"... nyuk nyuk nyuk)

[kailhofer]

Now up to 5 entries, including one by a brand new author. (New to us, at least.)

Looking good, gang.

Nate