Interim Challenge

The Storybearer’s Flame

As the first of twelve chimes echoed through the night, the Judge squinted out into the nothingness, desperate for a glimpse of something, anything. He’d warned them this may happen, that things can be… unpredictable, but still, each pang of the clock made his heart lurch. Where the hell was she? What if she’d... The Judge stopped himself. She knew what was at stake. Suddenly, a harrowing shriek cracked through the sky and a trumpet of fire appeared on the horizon. The Judge watched her break through the smoke, sixty-six charred scraps of paper clutched in her talons, and wept.

-- Shagreen or Chagrined --
    A tale from the Bay

The shark gave The Judge a side eye.
Judges were an unpredictable lot.
But still, this judge had a fish taco.
It had been a while since he’d eaten someone with a fish taco.

The Judge dangled the taco enticingly.
The shark’s stomach growled.
Was there cheese on it?

The shark circled the rowboat, calculating.
The judge braced himself.

The shark sailed through the air and chomped down on the tossed taco.
The Judge held his letter opener horizontally at a precise 22° angle as the shark flew over.

We are mole people

We judge your Flash

We type type type

But can’t go fast

Just type type type

In our holes

Working working

Little moles

Tiny claws go click clack click

Hard to tell which Flash to pick

Eyes so dim and screen so bright

Still we judging through the night

Don’t have clocks,

Can’t see the sun

Never know

when deadline come

Thursday come and deadline go

Don’t be mad for being slow

Judging hard, so hard indeed

Considering we cannot read.