2013 Easter Hatch-a-long "Short Story Contest!"

Discussion in 'Sponsored Content, Contests, and Giveaways' started by Sally Sunshine, Feb 15, 2013.

  1. Sally Sunshine

    Sally Sunshine Cattywampus Angel <straightens Halo> Premium Member

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    CLOSED!


    Thank you everyone for your entries! So many wonderful stories! The judging results are in, and it was super close, but we had to pick only one winner.

    And the winner is..............
    Pele




    Congratulations!
    [​IMG]
    http://www.nutrenaworld.com/products/poultry/naturewise-poultry

    $65 worth of FEED!

    In the form of manufacturer's coupons that may be redeemed for FREE bags!
    You have won $65 worth of feed coupons courtesy of Nutrena!



    Winning entry by pele...
    Easter Hatchalong Short Story

    The egg sleeps, lost in dreams and worlds unknown for days. What does it dream about? Does it already envision verdant fields washed with sunshine, and waving lazily in the breeze perfumed with heather? Does it feel the rocking of its shell, and wonder “What is out there?” as it gently swirls within its tiny microcosm? Sometimes, as it sleepily kicks and turns, I think it does. It makes me smile privately to myself, as if I have understood a gentle jest amongst friends.

    Day by day, the mystery of what it knows and dreams deepens. Eventually, it is driven to action, even voicing its existence. Is it fear or triumph in that tiny voice? Or is it simply a single defiant note against the background music of the larger orchestra of the world as a whole? “I exist! I am coming”. I hear you, and though the world may not notice, I think your music is beautiful and welcome your coming.

    For hours, the egg voices its existence; testing its own strength and the boundaries of its limits. All the while, I hear a small tapping. As if a timid small child is rapping at my porch door, and asking if they can come in for a while. My heart swells, and my answer is clear: “Of course! You are dearly wanted, come child. Let us get to know one another.”

    Then the egg ruptures, the smooth bow of its shell disrupted in one tiny violent heave. That is when the beautiful little voice stops for a bit, seizing my heart in worry mixed with anticipation. Will the voice come back? Will I hear its heartbreakingly unique music again? Hope is my only succor, as I wait…. and wait in the dreaded silence.

    Suddenly, with a stridency that seems to startle even the owner of the voice, it is back. There is new purpose, new drama that is palpable upon the tiny stage the egg occupies. It makes me lean closer, catching my breath between urging it on. The egg shakes, and more of its surface cracks under the miniature tectonic forces within. Like the sundering of the earth during a major quake, a ragged crack appears, spreads, and separates reluctantly.

    It is at this point that I realize I don’t have an egg. The egg ceases to be; becomes other and insignificant. Where it was all consuming and important before, it now transmutes into an item of little importance. Because now a baby can be seen between the cracks. Wet, folded impossibly and still singing; always singing.


    This is the time that is the hardest for me. I want so badly to reach out and help this new life. To pry away the egg that it so stridently protests. But I dare not. I shall not. So instead I wait, eyes taken from my own will, and unable to look away. As if understanding my plight, the baby redoubles its efforts, and gives a monumental heave. It is a push that would be epic in larger scale; recorded for posterity.

    And then a tiny ball tumbles wildly free, coming to an awkward rest and breathing heavily. Slowly, carefully, as if not believing its new freedom, the baby unfolds its curled limbs. And then starts singing again. I grin and plaster my face to the incubator wall, and whisper endearments to him, heart flying with happiness. Every stumble, every crack of its eyes is a joy to me. And the helpless, bewildered music the baby keeps singing is the most beautiful I’ve ever heard.

    As I watch it truly and finally look out into the world for the very first time, the purity of the moment pierces through me almost painfully. Within the dark liquid depths of its eyes is everything. It is hope, a new beginning, my future plans, endless possibilities….. and as always, it is dreams.

    [​IMG]



    -End






    Contest #2


    2013 Easter Hatch-a-long


    "Short Story Contest!"




    [​IMG]

    We’re looking for short stories!
    Think you can write a winning story about Why you love hatching chicks” in less than 750 words?
    Enter the Short Story Competition for your chance to win!
    A panel of Judges will determine which story quality justifies a winning place.

    ENTRY DEADLINE
    March 25th, 2013 Midnight PST


    PRIZE
    [​IMG]
    http://www.nutrenaworld.com/products/poultry/naturewise-poultry


    $65 worth of FEED!

    In the form of manufacturer's coupons that may be redeemed for FREE bags!

    CONTEST RULES
    1. The contest is open to ALL BYC U.S. resident members only (void where prohibited).

    2. Limit of one entry per person.
    3. Your story must be 750 words or fewer, NO EXCEPTIONS.

    4. Your entry must include at least ONE photo or drawing.
    5. Entries may NOT have been previously published or used in other contests.
    6. Author's name should NOT
    appear anywhere on pages of story.

    7. The deadline is March 25th, 2013 Midnight PST
    8. Finally, because it’s your story be as funny, poignant, witty, and educated as you wish!


    Post your completed stories on this thread
    &
    GOOD LUCK!


    If you have not joined in the Easter Hatch-a-long, join us here:
    https://www.backyardchickens.com/t/741090/the-4th-annual-byc-easter-hatch-a-long/0_50
     
    Last edited: Apr 1, 2013
  2. Chickenfan4life

    Chickenfan4life Overrun With Chickens

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    Cool! I'll enter soon. My family says I'm very good at writing, and I have won writing contests before. Think I have a chance?
     
  3. DURR

    DURR Chillin' With My Peeps

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    - I'm in!! :)
     
  4. Happy Chooks

    Happy Chooks Moderator Staff Member

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    Northern CA
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    For clarification - this contest is open to all BYC members in the U.S. - whether you are hatching in the Easter Hatch or not.
     
  5. Chickenfan4life

    Chickenfan4life Overrun With Chickens

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    Planet No
    Do I post my story right here, or in an article?
     
  6. Happy Chooks

    Happy Chooks Moderator Staff Member

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    Jul 9, 2009
    Northern CA
    My Coop
    Right here in the thread.
     
  7. Chickenfan4life

    Chickenfan4life Overrun With Chickens

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    Planet No
    Alright. :D
     
  8. Sally Sunshine

    Sally Sunshine Cattywampus Angel <straightens Halo> Premium Member

    55,740
    5,435
    626
    Aug 23, 2012
    Pennsylvania
    My Coop
    [​IMG][​IMG]
     
  9. Pele

    Pele Chillin' With My Peeps

    4,392
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    Feb 25, 2011
    Boise
    Well here goes nuthin:

    Easter Hatchalong Short Story

    The egg sleeps, lost in dreams and worlds unknown for days. What does it dream about? Does it already envision verdant fields washed with sunshine, and waving lazily in the breeze perfumed with heather? Does it feel the rocking of its shell, and wonder “What is out there?” as it gently swirls within its tiny microcosm? Sometimes, as it sleepily kicks and turns, I think it does. It makes me smile privately to myself, as if I have understood a gentle jest amongst friends.

    Day by day, the mystery of what it knows and dreams deepens. Eventually, it is driven to action, even voicing its existence. Is it fear or triumph in that tiny voice? Or is it simply a single defiant note against the background music of the larger orchestra of the world as a whole? “I exist! I am coming”. I hear you, and though the world may not notice, I think your music is beautiful and welcome your coming.

    For hours, the egg voices its existence; testing its own strength and the boundaries of its limits. All the while, I hear a small tapping. As if a timid small child is rapping at my porch door, and asking if they can come in for a while. My heart swells, and my answer is clear: “Of course! You are dearly wanted, come child. Let us get to know one another.”

    Then the egg ruptures, the smooth bow of its shell disrupted in one tiny violent heave. That is when the beautiful little voice stops for a bit, seizing my heart in worry mixed with anticipation. Will the voice come back? Will I hear its heartbreakingly unique music again? Hope is my only succor, as I wait…. and wait in the dreaded silence.

    Suddenly, with a stridency that seems to startle even the owner of the voice, it is back. There is new purpose, new drama that is palpable upon the tiny stage the egg occupies. It makes me lean closer, catching my breath between urging it on. The egg shakes, and more of its surface cracks under the miniature tectonic forces within. Like the sundering of the earth during a major quake, a ragged crack appears, spreads, and separates reluctantly.

    It is at this point that I realize I don’t have an egg. The egg ceases to be; becomes other and insignificant. Where it was all consuming and important before, it now transmutes into an item of little importance. Because now a baby can be seen between the cracks. Wet, folded impossibly and still singing; always singing.


    This is the time that is the hardest for me. I want so badly to reach out and help this new life. To pry away the egg that it so stridently protests. But I dare not. I shall not. So instead I wait, eyes taken from my own will, and unable to look away. As if understanding my plight, the baby redoubles its efforts, and gives a monumental heave. It is a push that would be epic in larger scale; recorded for posterity.

    And then a tiny ball tumbles wildly free, coming to an awkward rest and breathing heavily. Slowly, carefully, as if not believing its new freedom, the baby unfolds its curled limbs. And then starts singing again. I grin and plaster my face to the incubator wall, and whisper endearments to him, heart flying with happiness. Every stumble, every crack of its eyes is a joy to me. And the helpless, bewildered music the baby keeps singing is the most beautiful I’ve ever heard.

    As I watch it truly and finally look out into the world for the very first time, the purity of the moment pierces through me almost painfully. Within the dark liquid depths of its eyes is everything. It is hope, a new beginning, my future plans, endless possibilities….. and as always, it is dreams.

    [​IMG]



    -End
     
    3 people like this.
  10. That is absolutely beautiful. Just beautiful. [​IMG]
     

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