Posted: July 9, 2014 in Flash Face-Off
Tags: , , , , ,

Hello again, Friends!

Wow. Just. Wow.

It was great going back and re-reading all these winning stories. Personally, I was hard pressed to pick a favorite, but fortunately I was allowed to vote more than once, so that eased my conscience somewhat. 🙂 The readers have spoken, but before we get to that, I’d just like to say thank you so much to everyone—judges, photographers, readers, and of course, the writers—for making The Angry Hourglass such a success. Without your efforts, it would be just a sad, lifeless, little blog.

Time for the main event!!!

We have two runners up: drmagoo for his round 10 winning story  untitled and  Voima Oy for her round 22 winning story “The Lady Grey

Both runners up have won a $25.00 Amazon gift card. Well done!

And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for…

The winner of the Flash Master Face Off, $50.00 Amazon gift card, and ultimate bragging rights is Round 14 (and rounds 16 and 24)  champion:


for her story “Le Moulin”


Winners, please use the contact tab and send me your preferred email addresses to collect your prizes.

Thank you once again to everybody who participated and voted, and thank you for showing up every week and contributing your talents to the Flash Frenzy Family. You guys rock. Can’t wait to see you all again this Saturday for a brand new photo prompt and a brand new round of Flash Frenzy to be judged by none other than Flash Master Face Off winner herself, Beth! 😀

And just in case you missed it, here is Beth’s winning story again.

Cheers! ~R

Photo by TheShakes72

Photo by TheShakes72

Le Moulin

by Beth Deitchman

“I don’t remember this one,” Doris said.

Betty leaned over to see which picture Doris held. “Le Moulin,” she whispered. The blush surprised her. At least fifty years had passed, yet Betty could still feel the heat of that day.

“What was that?” Doris brayed.

“The mill,” Betty replied. “I took it that summer I spent in Rouen.”

“I never was good with languages like you,” Doris said, her voice clipped. “I never got the chance to travel.”

Betty shrugged, letting Doris have her sulk. She picked up the discarded picture—faded after all these years—and studied it. Around her the cold dining room shifted, faded; the picture fell from her hands.

She stood at the edge of that lazy river, warmed by the June sun, inhaling the scent of water and summer and something else—the rich, loamy earth near the old mill. Le moulin. Despite the day’s warmth, Betty shivered, the sensation radiating through her body. She held up a hand and gave a little cry. Her skin was smooth, taut, and clear, her fingers straight and free from pain. She touched her face, marveling at the softness, glanced down at her body, stunned by the firmness. “But how?” she whispered.

From behind her came a rich voice, familiar though she hadn’t heard it in more than fifty years. “Bonjour, mademoiselle.”

Betty closed her eyes, gave a silent prayer, and turned around. When she opened her eyes, she smiled. “Jean,” she said.

He held out his arms. “I have been waiting.”

Betty rushed into his embrace, remembering the sweetness of his arms wrapped around her, the earthiness of his smell, the heat of his body. For a perfect moment Jean held her.

“What about this one?”

“What?” Betty said, looking up at Jean. He smiled at her then kissed her forehead.


A cold hand grasped her arm, and Betty’s heart fell.

“What about this one?” Doris said.

“I’m not sure,” Betty replied. The winter chill settled again into her bones though the faint scent of summer, sun, and Jean clung to her skin.

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