Wow! I loved everyone's reponses and interpretations of the theme, and it was so hard to pick a winner. You all did amazingly! :D

Honorable Mention

Amethyst! I really love this! Your descriptions are so vivid and original -- I especially like the lines "Shara stood still in the forest, her gaze still slowly searching the turquoise sky beyond the cobweb of pine needles" and "Standing in front of her was another girl, with wild, quick golden eyes, rumpled and wavy brown hair, and a face that looked as if it had been shaped by the wind." All the dialogue was also really cool -- it was excellently worded and almost ethereal. The themes of independence and moving on and being true to one's self were all really strong. Overall, you did an excellent job! I love your writing style!

Third Place

Jaybells! I absolutely love your take on the theme! Your prose is sharp and beautiful, and the first paragraph really set the tone for the rest of the piece. It's so cool how you incorporated the culture and language of Surci's tribe and the world they live in! And I love the meaning behind faer name :) Wanting to see the world, wanting to adventure -- that's something that makes us human, I think, and you've really captured the humanity of that desire, while also making it into something magical, yet something that can be achieved (if that makes sense...?). Anyway, excellent job!

Second Place

Poinsettia! Wow, your writing is so poignant and beautiful! It's really atmospheric, and not a single word is wasted. It's impossible for me to choose a favorite line, though I really like the descriptions  in the third paragraph and of the rainforest. The way you conveyed Eugenia's internal struggle and her feelings about her father was really well done, as was the symbolism of the macaw. I loved the themes/messages present in this piece as well -- freeing one's self from one's past, for instance. I really love your writing style, and overall, you did an excellent job!

First Place

Silver Crystal! Wow, this is beautiful. I haven't been to Chinatown since the pandemic, but I feel like you really captured that atmosphere, especially in the first two paragraphs. Your writing is sharp and vivid, and you've captured the emotion really, really well. I love the last line especially -- "The wake could wait. Right now, she was feeding the pigeons." -- because it brings the whole story full-circle. It's bittersweet and honestly just so touching; I read it this morning and have been thinking about it all day. Great job -- you're the next judge! :) 

i hope this is still happening...

Creatures of Joy 

The sun rose bright and clear, arriving on the eastern horizon, turning the ocean yellow, and streaks of light danced across the sky. The few clouds that lingered from a past storm were dyed pink. A few early rising seagulls squawked as they dipped and dived over the waves. A salty breeze rustles the palm trees and bushes on the island. A trickling sound is the crystal clear fresh water spring bubbling into a pool nearby. The sand is white, and cool, for the sun hadn’t warmed the grains yet. A few other strange calls from the trees say that parrots, monkeys, and other critters and birds of paradise are waking as the sun rises higher, the sky now blue, the clouds now white, and the ocean sparkling and turquoise. Waves lap softly on the shore, and at the feet of a boy. 

The boy was called Kai, and he had dark tan skin, with darker brown hair. His eyes were hazel, and full of excitement. He had on only shorts, which, like the sky, were blue. He had watched the sunrise every day that he could, and today’s waking up of the world had been wonderful. The summer morning was growing warm, and Kai stretched, ready for the next part of the day. He began wading into the water, and when it was deep enough, he sucked in a breath and dove beneath the warm waves. 

Underwater, Kai opened his eyes. He had been doing this most of his life, and it was almost natural to be beneath the waves. Though the water blurred his vision, the water was clear. As he swam forward, he disturbed little, only a bit of sand and a small school of fish. A whole minute and a half later, the water had gotten only a little deeper, and Kai went up for air. Again he dived down, and after a moment the water got a whole lot deeper. 

He stopped swimming, but moved his arms to keep him under the surface. Then, he opened his mouth and made a chattering sound, much like a dolphin. It was broken, of course, but it was still quite authentic underwater. Bubbles rose to the surface, as did Kai. He stood, shaking water from his hair as the small waves lapped at his shoulders. He waited in silence for his friend whom he’d just called, gazing at the clear, beautiful water, waiting for the familiar flash of gray/blue beneath the surface. There she was. 

A dolphin leaped gracefully out of the water, scattering crystal drops of water, and chattering a joyful hello. With a laugh, Kai jumps into the air and belly flops on the water, not so nearly as perfect as his friend. Under the water, the dolphin nuzzles him, squeaking something. Kai laughs again, and bubbles rise to the sun. He rubs the dolphin’s slick, smooth skin, and then grabs her dorsal fin. She bucks around playfully, and then with a powerful whoosh of her tail, and a kick of Kai’s feet, they dash through the water, leaping into the air, chasing fish, and laughing and chittering happily. The water grows warm as the sun rises higher, and the two friends have lots of fun in the clear, turquoise waters of the ocean.

~The End

Summer was supposed to be the best season. One where you could let go and breathe, and simply enjoy the little things, but the grand things too, the bright and the beautiful and the natural that takes your breath away. Sunny, blue skies – warm weather and life in full swing, the ocean, sand between your feet, flowers blooming and wildlife flourishing – freedom at its finest. That's what Summer is supposed to be like. This Summer was different.

Charred terra and desolate silence shared little resemblance to the shining ideals of summer. Cold, barren earth dusted with scorched patches of salt-and-peppered fragments of ash and cinder, and dark, heavy air tasting of smoke were all that remained of the former youth and life of the land. Where once there was joy and sound and movement, there was first sweltering suffocation, misery and flames of destruction, then smouldering ruins and cold and silence. This place would never quite recover from the wound inflicted upon it. Summer would never again be the same.

Heya @Silver can you possibly move the date... since it is way past due? and maybe more people will enter in the intervening time?

Ahh sorry, I don't visit Inkwell as much as I used to so I didn't see this until now! Yes, judging will be moved to July 20th. If no one else submits by then I'll just judge Jaybells and Hawkstar's peices. 

Can I join...? If so, here's mine:

It was the season of summer, when bees buzzed with anticipation of all the honey they’d make, and ponds melting through their icy shells. Buds peeked through the frost-covered ground, and there was excitement in the air. After all, summer was a season of growth and change.

The children of Alerie were full of joy, their laughter floating down the street into my ears like music. Their footsteps echoed like a rhythm underneath the summer sunlight. Oh, how I longed to be with them, but something inside me, like a great black beast, pulled me back, whispering doubts. You can’t do it. No one will welcome you. You’re all alone. No one cares. You’re weak. And that voice won me. 

How I longed to get up and walk around the little town of Alerie, especially in the pleasant summer! But whenever I would try, memories would flash through my head, crowding my mind. Flashes of broken wheels, shattered machinery, and the dark red of blood against the brick pavement of the street. All this a whirl, along with unrecognizable voices, and sudden darkness. Then I would return to my present, and be defeated by it. This would go to show that I’m simply weak, unable to face reality and disappointment if I really couldn’t make it.

So the black beast inside engulfed the whole of me. It took away my voice and mobility, or at least I’d think it did, when in reality, it was me who gave in. As whenever I try to open my mouth and lift my voice to speak, something within me would stop me, the self-doubt that what I would say wouldn’t matter to the world.

One lazy summer afternoon drifted in, and I, in my wheelchair, slowly creaked myself over to the window. And there, I saw a most wondrous sight. 

It was a rosebush. But not a typical one. It had dark green leaves that seemed to capture the essence of the woodlands itself within, and its roses were not a typical blood-red delicate bud. But instead, it was golden, like it had captured the essence of summer itself, a warm, glowing color, like the color of the sun as it sinks below the surface of the ocean.

And they called out to me. It was as if the roses were whispering, Come out, come out. I know you can do it. Come out, come out.

The beast inside me growled, No you can’t, no you can’t. You’re too weak to do anything.

Yes you can, yes you can, whispered the roses, as gently and melodically as a dove during a peaceful and sleepy sunny afternoon. 

And eventually, the rose took their enchantment on me. Almost as if in a trance, I rose up from my wheelchair and went towards the door. I walked towards the rosebush. I gently plucked a single rose from it. Its golden glow was warm in my hands.

“Look! Look!” I heard someone shout. “She’s up! She’s up!” But I didn’t care. I continued to stare at the golden rose.

“Oh!” gasped Mother. She rushed over to me. “You’re alright now? You’ve recovered?”

I looked up from the golden rose, and for the first time since the accident, I smiled. A small but warm smile. Summer, after all, was a season of growth and change.