A Prize For The Winner

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Cover image: pixabay.com.

A Prize For The Winner

As a rule, I try to avoid crowds, especially when they are lively and high-spirited. I try to merge myself into the landscape, but this rowdy bunch have other ideas.

I don’t know how I can adequately describe these... beings, for they seem to be in a constant state of change. Take the one that steps forward: one moment they seem no bigger than a young child, then they are taller than any man. By the time it manages to speak to me, it’s face is roughly level with my knee.

We want to race, and we want you to judge which of us is the winner.”

I... I don’t think it’s me you want.” I try to turn away, but they have me surrounded.

Do you see anyone else that could do it? We don’t.” They seemed to be arranging themselves into something roughly resembling a line. “And don’t forget... a winner deserves a prize!”

What? But I don’t...” I was talking to myself, for the entire crowd had begun to head off in all directions.

I waited for them all to have moved away, and then I start to run. My escape plan failed badly, for all I succeed in doing is to attract many of them to my side. I guess they had misunderstood, and thought that I was playing too.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, the race ended. I found myself surrounded by flowing beings demanding to know who had won. What was I supposed to do? Not being able to think of a better solution, I spin in a circle until I grow dizzy, stopping and pointing at the very one who had spoke to me at the start.

A prize! I want a prize!”

I look around, hoping for inspiration, then dig my hands into my pockets. They are empty. No, make that almost empty, for my fingers close around one single, solitary sunflower seed.

Here!” I hold it out.

What sort of prize is that?”

Oh, dear, some quick thinking is clearly needed. “This... this is a very special prize. If you plant it in soil and take very good care of it, this seed will begin to grow. But it won’t stop very quickly, but will grow and grow until it is very tall. The magic doesn’t stop there, though.”

I pause to make sure I have their full attention before continuing. “When it finishes growing, it will start to flower into a great big sun!”

I can’t ignore the dubious looks I am getting. Some of the others are pushing forwards and holding out their hands, wanting their own prizes, but my pockets are empty.

I come up with another idea. “As you all deserve some kind of prize, how about I make up a poem?”

They don’t know what I’m talking about, I can see that from their frowns, and maybe that is just as well as I’ve never had much of a talent for ad-libbing.

 


Submitted: January 30, 2021

© Copyright 2021 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

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Comments

Mike S.

A fine tale, Hull

Sat, January 30th, 2021 10:27pm

Author
Reply

Thanks, Mike.

Sun, February 7th, 2021 5:54am

Joe Stuart

If your stories are anything to go by, Hully, you are very good at ad-libbing. You have been coming up with some entertaining new ideas lately.

Sun, January 31st, 2021 9:55pm

Author
Reply

Thanks so much for such an encouraging comment, Joe. Glad you enjoyed it.

Sun, February 7th, 2021 5:50am

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