I have a dilemma. When I went to judge the Drabble contest this morning, I found that there were two stories that I liked best, the ones by Estela and BN Lippy. That happens all the time in contest entries, but in this case I found that I didn’t find myself leaning more to one than the other. In fact, I like them both equally, a rare occurrence. Normally, I would then just award 2 prizes and say, “Yeah!” But this weekend I truly only have time for one critique and to try to do 2 would either result in 2 lesser critiques or 1 just not getting done. So, I find I have to award only one winner.

And that’s where you come in. I’m going to open the contest up to voting. I’m going to post both stories here, and then you, dear readers, will vote for the winner. Now, I’ve limited voting to once a computer (although if you have multiple computers I suppose you can pack the pot), and voting is only open through 11:45 Tuesday night.

Presenting my two contestants (in order of their posts):


I opened the carton and groaned. “One egg is not enough.”

I prayed to Recipe, the Egyptian goddess of the kitchen. Just then, the doorbell rang. My neighbors. “We’re leaving town. Could you use some eggs?”


Then I couldn’t find chocolate chips. I prayed to Recipe again.

“Cool.” yelled my brother a moment later. “A chocolate bar under the sofa cushions!”

“I need that.”

I mixed, put everything in the oven, and turned on the TV.

“What’s that burning smell?”

Suddenly, Recipe appeared. “You are hopeless, even for a mortal. Here’s some money. Go buy yourself an ice cream.”



Ryan is drawn to a worn leather book with no publisher or author listed.

Under the title on the first page he reads the following, “Ryan opens the book and sees no publisher or author. Curious, he watches as each word appears.”

“Ryan, this book is not for you,” says the librarian quietly. “It’s mischievous and from a different time.”

Ryan looks up with glazed eyes.

She takes the book.

“Here’s a book about Omm Ali Cocoa you’ll enjoy.”

The spell is broken when the book leaves his hands

He won’t remember the mysterious book; until it finds him again.

To vote, click the button by your favorite below.

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© Copyright 2006-2011 Madeline Smoot. All rights reserved.
May be excerpted and duplicated for educational purposes.
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