Salamander 2024 Fiction Contest

SUBMIT: May 1 through June 2, 2024 | READING FEE: $15

SUBMIT ENTRIES NOW

Optimize Optical

Fiction
  A sting. A swell. A white light. “Easy,” Dr. Gray says, patting my arm. “Let them adjust.” Warm tears bury their bodies in the pits of my ears. White…

The Graveyard, the Garden

Fiction
  They forgot to take a clock with them, and when they came up from under the earth all the clocks had stopped. They had no spaceman suits but managed…

Red on Yellow

Fiction
  Satan was in the sunset the night Jaiq didn’t come home. Earlier that day, Liv, Jaiq’s mother, left work at 2 pm instead of 5. Under normal circumstances, her…

Come Tomorrow

Fiction
  Every house in the village looked identical, which made it difficult for Diya to decide where to knock for help. In the absence of any distinguishing features—a worn jute…

Cicada Song

Fiction
  Rock, Paper, Scissors would have been easier, Rob thinks. Because after he gives Andy a quick rundown of the rules of the game, Andy asks, “Does everyone count? Mailman?…

Americanos

Fiction
  There were two Americas, and I loved them both. One entered my life during seventh grade social studies, right before the other started dating my father. Can you imagine?…

The Kelley Street Disappearances

Fiction
  The two white-haired boys vanished from their house on a Monday afternoon. No forced entry, no evidence of foul play, and nothing missing from their room to suggest they’d…

Scrambleface

Fiction
  They’re holding the needles poised at the tips of their noses. Cross-eyed with nervous concentration, focusing on the point, the sharp end, the sliver of metal all set to…

Fata Morgana

Fiction
  When Sam’s parents had taken him to see the last remaining polar bear, they’d sweated in line for hours. Lizzie had been there, too. In the parking lot their…

Velvet Knob

Fiction
  The hog farmer is grindstone apples, seek-no-furthers, he is primrose balm, mayhaw and sorrel and scuppernong butters, he is carved corn-knife handles and stocking stretchers and tiny mounted soldiers:…

Patience

Fiction
  At high tide the water spewed against the toothy outcrops and matted scrubs of the low cliff around the inlet, and not for the first time the General was…

Guilty Parties

Fiction
  Every Monday morning before school, we assembled in class lines in the covered playground, from shortest to tallest. On the first day of second grade, we were the four…