5th Annual Imagine Little Tokyo Short Story Contest

The Little Tokyo Historical Society’s fifth-short story contest concluded with an Awards Reception held on the evening of Thursday, April 19, 2018 at the Union Church of Los Angeles in Little Tokyo. The winning stories were read by three professional actors. The purpose of the contest is to raise awareness of Little Tokyo through a creative story that takes place in Little Tokyo. The story has to be fictional and set in a current, past, or future Little Tokyo in the City of Los Angeles, California. 

Winners:


*Read stories from other Imagine Little Tokyo Short Story Contests:

1st Annual Imagine Little Tokyo Short Story Contest >>
2nd Annual Imagine Little Tokyo Short Story Contest >>
3rd Annual Imagine Little Tokyo Short Story Contest >>
4th Annual Imagine Little Tokyo Short Story Contest >>
6th Annual Imagine Little Tokyo Short Story Contest >>
7th Annual Imagine Little Tokyo Short Story Contest >>
8th Annual Imagine Little Tokyo Short Story Contest >>

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Remembering

Rae sat in class, back straight and pen in hand, her elbow resting comfortably on a page already filled with notes. She attentively wrote down each important detail from the presentation slides being shown.

The bell rang, and everyone began to pack up their things.

“Hold on students,” the teacher spoke. “You have a special writing assignment due at the start of next week. You must write about a place you visited when you were younger. A place that scared you, excited you, made you happy, made you sad… Wherever comes to mind. And discuss the way it made you …

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喜寿の手習い

夫の7回目の命日を3日後に控えた一月半ばのその日、和子バーチャンは朝から機嫌が悪かった。いつもの通り、午前5時に起きた。老人の一人暮らしで、仕事している訳でもなく、気ままな生活なのだが、長年の習慣で、目覚ましがなくても自然に眼が開く。ベッドの上で身を起こした途端に、身体にかすかな痛みが走った。激しい痛みではない。右脇腹が疼いた。「あ、雨だな」と呟きながら、洗面所に入り、窓のカーテンを開けると、案の定、外は雨だった。まだ時間が早いせいか、もやと雨が混じった乳白色が家の周りを覆っていた。静かな小雨がシトシトと窓を叩いていた。

「まるで私の体は湿度計なんだから」とまた一人で呟いた。かすかな痛みは7年前の交通事故の後遺症である…

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Life at the (Little Tokyo) Budokan

Jeff maneuvered his sleek black Audi off the freeway. He peered in either direction, unable to get his bearings. “This is just great,” he mumbled. He hadn’t been to Little Tokyo in years but had figured it would come back by memory once he got downtown.

“You know how to get there, right?” asked his son Craig, slouched next to him, his blue and gold Sabers uniform draped loosely over his wiry frame, a pair of black headphones wrapped around his neck.

“I know where we’re at,” Jeff lied.

“Sure,” Craig deadpanned and went back to gazing out his window. …

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