Winners
Top 4

The detailed comments below are those of our judge, Barbara Black. Barbara has two collections published by Caitlin Press Inc. She was the winner of The Plaza Microfiction Prize in 2024. If you haven’t read her little fortified stories – they are excellent! You can find out more about her at: https://barbarablack.ca/

1st Prize: The Tell-tale Chirp Of An Olive Warbler by Alan Kennedy

This story has the kind of charged energy that keeps a reader reading. It’s a story told with economy and precision with an author’s talent for upping the ante in just the right places. Charming, grumpy, witty all at the same time. It’s not always easy to maintain a high level of comic intensity, but you have succeeded.

As the story builds, the narration is flooded with a stream of hostile phrases that, despite being hostile, are also funny: “Skull-drilling cacophony,” an “unearthly wail” amid a variety of expletives from the main character. Violent and hellish adverbs and adjectives drive the narrative and the comedy.

Against the seemingly bucolic back drop of a Moroccan setting of pine trees, bird song and aromas of thyme and rosemary, we have a ranting ornithologist, enraged by his thwarted bird identification assignment. Even the landscape seems to be against him what with humid heat pinning him against a tree, the constant drilling of cicadas and, my favourite, “assassin thorns.” Humour escalates with the introduction of the ornithologist’s nemesis: a hennaed “annoying, anonymous accordionist” playing nearby on the beach. Flash fiction loves incongruity. And assonance.

And then, the turn. Not required for every flash story but perfectly executed in this one: “Are you alright?” The understated plead from the hapless bird lover, — “…can you…?’’—and once again civility is restored. Well done.

2nd Prize: An Unexpected Beach by Mary Francis

This story has a beautiful mood that spills out from beginning to end. Contributing to this mood are skilfully described images that not only create the setting for the reader— “Where farmland stumbles upon the ocean and falls apart in surprise”—but do double duty as metaphors for the emotional state of the main character. Death is lurking in the subtext with “Outside nothing moved, nothing breathed” and “…the nightbirds were silent.” The insomniac main character is both literally and figuratively “in the dark.” Due to his reticence, we as readers not only have to pay attention to the landscape references, but also to descriptions of the man’s movements and gestures to understand his state of mind.

There’s space in this unspoken grief, and restraint in the writing. Time seems to stretch out. The unsaid occupies our mind. The power of omission. You’re very adept at creating this, building the tension by providing only fragments of events (for example, not stating outright Pete’s suicide).

It’s challenging to portray stasis in a story while at the same time advancing it. One of the ways you do this is by cleverly linking sensations such as the man’s feeling of the sea and the act of listening to his unborn child’s movements in the womb. Also, there are parallels. Right after mention of cows coming to milking is mention of his wife and kids (plural), and Pete “choosing the milking shed”, both key pieces of information.

The ending is as gentle and inconclusive as the opening, relying once again on a metaphor to convey an emotional state. No huge revelation, no dramatic turn. There’s nothing wrong with a soft ending that only hints at a tiny change. This is a story about the spaces in between.

3rd Prize: Understanding Your Medication: Unsuitable Boyfriend by Chris Cottom

Speaking about writing short fiction, author Rebecca Makkai said: “You throw out your little story like a grenade.” And this, you have done very well! It’s nice to see a flash fiction using a borrowed form and maximizing the possibilities.

With sharp wit and a clever imitation of medication instructions, you’ve written a roller coaster of a story from grenade blast-off to ignominious end. You’ve cleverly demonstrated that not every tale needs continuous sentences. A series of statements can build a narrative. With tactics such as repetition, sarcasm and varied sentence lengths—long, descriptive warnings and short stabs—you keep the reader highly engaged. Some great lines: “This medication can only be taken with alcohol” and “Unsuitable Boyfriend is used to relieve symptoms associated with being single.” The last statement of instructions is spot on and terminates the story perfectly!

Highly Commended: All Their Friends Thought They Were Fucking by Omar Musa

This is a touching story brimming with details. The artistry lies in your portrayal of the young couple’s enduring, deep and unconventional relationship as it grows from being platonic to something deeper (but not sexual). Later in their lives, when they share their darkest secrets, we’re privileged of this knowledge. Their friends, who only appear in the title and last sentence, are not, or choose to think otherwise.

I enjoyed your use of language with the rhythmic list of verbs “partied, fought, made up, traveled” and “wired it, tiled it, painted it…” Also, “like a throwback teenage sleepover.” The three mentions of the rose-patterned curtains seem to fly by, but upon rereading the “Ugly, rose-patterned curtains….of horrid nylon” sounds ominous, “the rose-pattered curtains fluttering above them” suggests something celestial, and the last mention of the curtains finally leads us to tragedy. There’s no coincidence that “They slept like angels” on the night of their death. We’d already had foreshadowing with “Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe,” and “like it was the end of days.” As the story unfolds you set up many of these subtextual hints before the deathly fire.

The last section seems to abandon the story’s tone. “Neighbours huddled…wiping their eyes” lacks the more nuanced approach the story showed earlier. And the last sentence, which reads like a punchline, tears down the intimate structure that so tenderly drove the story. I wonder if you would consider leaving the ending open. By having the “friends” feel jointly triumphant after hearing the couple are dead you may have lost your readers. It might be a thought to simply leave off the last sentence or leave us with “lying next to each other like lovers.” The choices are up to you. Despite these points, the core of the story is meticulously crafted to lead us through a story of love with a tragic outcome.

SHORTLIST (with writers’ names)

Good enough by DX Lewis

Some of Us Won’t Notice the Berries by Hannah Retalick

Where to return a used husband by Jaye McKenzie

What Can I Tell You by Katalin Abrudan

Now I Have Become Meme by Heidi Kasa

Paved by Jay McKenzie

LONGLIST (with writers’ names)

Never Mock The Clown by Charles Kitching

Remembering Cairo by Rebecca Burton

There was an old woman by Deborah Thompson

Rail of Exes by Hannah Retalick

Moth by Sherry Cassells

Ticks by Joe Bedford

It’s Not The End Of The World by Jaime Gill

Pull Tab Night by Mark Connelly

Upgrade by Alex Talbot

Red, White and Blueland by Amy DeFlavis

Congrats to the 4 winners, the 10 writers on our shortlist, and the 10 who made the long list. We hope these credits help to build your literary reputations and get you published soon.

The Plaza Poetry Prize (40 lines max) is OPEN now to enter. Judge: George Szirtes. 1st prize: £1,000 / $1250. Deadline: 31st May, 2025.