Summer Contest Finalists--You Vote for the Winner

[Rouge]

Alright, YWO, these are my finalists for the first Summer Contest. I asked them to write an image that conveyed how summer was without actually mentioning "summer" anywhere in the prose. I want you to pick who you think did it best.
I'm leaving it blind, as in I'm not putting who wrote what. If they author says, "Oh hey, that's mine" then it's not my doing. I just think it's more fair and less biased if you don't know who wrote it.

Also, the order that they are in is completely random.

Finalist 1:

Snapdragons and Butterflies
We’re standing in the bus shelter. Outside it smells of the falling rain and the blossoming flowers and somewhere far it smells of lightning. Maybe somewhere close. I haven’t been counting because all I can smell is him. He has a scent and it’s our sheets and the nights I fall asleep on him and the sweater I never gave back all rolled into one and it’s ambrosia.

I could laugh. The distant crashes and the noise of millions of marbles being dropped could mean a spoiled day. But it makes the minutes last. I can go home and apologize to my mother: “The bus was late.” But that’s later. Now, there’s only the flash above and the game of marbles and the soft sound of his breathing.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I know. I’ve missed you too.”

Most of the year, I am Demeter’s child. And even though the whole world is white and dying we have to ignore it. We have to pretend it isn’t agony to fall asleep cold. Even now that it’s warm and there are snapdragons and butterflies and him and our months are here we have to pretend that September will never come. That it will be warm forever. That this moment between the lightning and thunder will last.

“If only, if only.”

Finalist 2:
The ice cream melts, cool, like the nine o'clock sunset over the horizon of dark-chocolate flakes, curled up like thread-thin blankets, thrown away to the side of the bed because the wool clung like water in the air. Humidity rising like the pants of a sheep-dog, silhouetted and lying amongst the grass, too tired to sleep, and too hot to be tired.

The sheep, huddled, basking.

Nodding away the years, in and out, telling each other their spinning yarns (nightmares) of Winter. Their fleece, they will never believe it's the same colour as snow, shine like dust tracks in the dry road.

Sounds from the grand-father clock tell his stories of exploding bombs over oceans (those starry splashes of painted blood and varnish, streaked the sky he said) and albatross wings. The grandfather chair rocks slowly by the porch with the picket-fences brandished with WET PAINT, as if the blue dandelion heads were dry in this weather. A light brushing of air, tiny thousands and millions, gives everything the appearance of burning oil

slick and drowning

one swoosh across the parch-lands.

Up in flames, up in a heat that belongs in smoke. Belongs in the smoky rings of trees, their musk falling like the rings in their age and everything seems older

with fully bleating lamb dilating,

speckled deer in slow motion and the sound of crunching branches is so crisp in this night air of burger oil stains that litter the distance, cranberry salt in the moist tip of your tongue,

smeared ketchup towards the beaches,

and bare-chested clouds breathe their way through the constellations. Stars that shine even when the world is light, and the beer cold, popping, whistling through this cool evening air where the animals in their farms have all come to watch the sky burn.


Finalist 3:
Children clutch melting ice creams in soggy cones as they squeal with delight, harmonising with the shrill keening of the seagulls that wheel above them. The beady eyes of the white birds are ever watchful for a morsel of food dropped by a sticky-handed, sticky-faced toddler, or the silver flash of a fish as they edge closer to the surface of the water to drink in the sunlight. A red-cheeked baby sits down abruptly on the burning pebbles and begins to cry, throwing her head back as her golden curls burn in a fierce halo of gold around her teary eyes. As suddenly as it started, her shrill cries stop – she has found a toy in the pebble as hot as her grubby hands that seems to pulse, alive. Mothers smile and laugh gently to themselves, watching their over-excited children spray rainbows over themselves as the splash and giggle in the azure water. The sun seems to wipe away their motherly concerns, erase the creases that mark their worn faces and ease their strains. Fathers lie like beached whales on towels, noses buried in the broadsheets that rustle and flap noisily in the salty breeze. The smell of cooking wafts down towards the perpetually hungry children, who struggle out of the sparkling water to run to their sprawling parents and beg for yet more sweet treats to cram into their watering mouths. Little bodies shiny with a coat of water chase each other around the beach, giggling joyously. The sound of their happiness drifts upwards to the blue sky and melts into the symphony of the rolling waves and trilling birds.


And, all of the other beautiful images I received:


The anchorman said on the picture-box today
that a ball of fire had been spotted in the sky,
but no one had heard his languid speech patterns
from outside their walled sand fortresses.

A little breath-breeze ruffled up my hair
and sent clouds of salt scents up my nose
where they injected pure bliss into my brain
and kept me continually beating at that palace.

There was a mercury-heavy heat pressing on us
and smothering our pores like that whack-a-mole
game we played for hours at the arcade before
running across splinter mountains of sweat drenched
wood laying in neat piles like a bridge from the cool
to the hot, the ice cream rivers to the water continents.

(Gentle lapping noises reminded us of the day we
took our dog to see those kelly green fields, where he drank
from glass water that I said was manifesting those
little pests that made our skin pucker up red and itchy.)

Near the twilight we sat down on grainy blankets and
watched the ball of fire disappear behind thick gray mists,
we let the showers wash the salt stains off our skin
and our laughing echoed off the fiery warm droplets.

The anchorman told us later that night that it would
continue to rage storms over our golden crescent beaches,
so we pulled on our thinking caps and ticked off activities
while bar-b-q-ing on our pitfall patio and letting the smoke
fill our lungs, and finally checked off the decision
to visit the human-infested local pool tomorrow.


A post-spring heat clings to the skin and the humid air prevents the sweat trickling down one’s arm from evaporating; the entire city is boiled to the bone. No more is there the smell of eye-itching pollen, but of water and wax-like grass; it’s the kind of weather one lies out with a six-inch-tall glass of ice water. The ice melts after only a few minutes, causing water to bulge over the rim and dribble to the hot ground. If it was lying on the black pavement, the water would crackle and sizzle as it slapped against the natural stove.
A post-spring heat sears the sky; no more is chilled milk the color of the sky. Above the verdant foliage and soaring skyscrapers, the world is a vast sheet of neon blue glass. The sun filters through it, distorting real scenes with sweltering air waves; all images – real or unreal – waver in the light. All roads might as well be concealed beneath sand, and the rest replaced with cactus; the Sahara barely meets these standards of these scorching streets.
A post-spring heat dries one’s mouth, lubricates one’s skin, and brightens one’s eyes. Yet each day lives like lightening – all too soon it vanishes; then all that’s left is the sticky feeling of the last, blistering day.



The translucent drops resembled pearls as they slowly turned the turquoise water navy. Occasionally a tanned hand would steal away a glistening pastel shell from its golden home. As the sunset spattered brilliant reds and yellows onto the clouds, music drifted through half open windows of the simple wooden beach houses. Splashes and laughs resounded in the clear air as couples walked hand in hand, planning to spend the starry night together until sunrise, laced with delicate shades of lilac and aquamarine, would wake them from their dream.

On a nearby road, buses roared by on their way to tents set up by the dunes, tents which surrounded the piled up logs that awaited the campers. A cacophony of shouts would arise once the children arrived, and would only cease to be replaced by the unschooled voices that would accompany the guitar as the delicious smell of roasted sausages filled the air.

Those of the more overprotective parents, who had insisted on personally bringing their children to camp, left in clouds of dust and sand. Plane tickets were clutched tightly as the thought of Parisian coffee sped them across the highway. This time of travel and self-discovery was illuminated by the scorching sun; the journeys begun would be filled with shooting stars that would remain as timeless memories in everyone’s hearts.



Outside, wind blew lazily past the bushes and trees, tugging at their healthy green leaves and flowers. The air carried with it some of the smells of nature’s many different flowers. Fresh cut grass mingled with the sweetness. Overhead, the sky was a patchwork of white, blue, and gray. Storm clouds approached; thunder and lightning were common for this time of year.

The impending storm would bring cooler weather, but right now the sun shone brightly, warming the ground, the trees, the flowers, the butterflies that flitted searching for pollen, and anyone else who happened to be outside. Harsh rays struck the ground, pushing through the clouds that dotted the sky as again the wind blew past.

[Majyk]

Will you tell us who the runners up are once the winner is decided? (I'm curious to see if my guesses are correct as to who the authors are.)

[Spacepirate]

You should post all of them. :)

[Rouge]

Absolutely. :3

Space, I don't want to post all of them because then you could have a wide range of tied winners. I'm not a good tie breaker. :P

[Spacepirate]

Absolutely. :3

Space, I don't want to post all of them because then you could have a wide range of tied winners. I'm not a good tie breaker. :P

Not to vote, just for us to see.

:)

And get some controversial discussion coming.

[Rouge]

well, there you go. I went ahead and posted everyone's, but I'm still not putting names. :3

vote plzkthnxbai

[Peppermental]

Oh snap, all tied up

[Majyk]

well, there you go. I went ahead and posted everyone's, but I'm still not putting names. :3

You did that because you know that I fail at trying to figure out who is who. xD Actually, I can't say for certain yet, since I don't know how off I am. :p But everyone's entries were really good.

[Autumn]

You did that because you know that I fail at trying to figure out who is who. xD Actually, I can't say for certain yet, since I don't know how off I am. :p But everyone's entries were really good.

Yes I agree with Majyk, all were brilliant! :D

[Rouge]

Well, okay, let me tell you guys who won. :)

Congratulations, Tegzz! =)

and in second place came Space, followed by Clarissa.
Among the other contestants were Autumn, Majyk, AliceGriffin and Mercy.

Thanks everyone for competing!

[Tegzz]

Thanks Adri. :)

[Autumn]

Congrats Tegzz! :D

And thanks for the contest Adri, was fun :)

[lahari.g]

Congrats Tezz!!:)

[FayGee]

What was Tegzz's entry?

[Majyk]

What was Tegzz's entry?

You can read everyone's entries in the first post. And as I said in another post, don't drag back old threads, especially contests that are over with.