Second place! Or third? ...Serd?

About 3 weeks ago I decided to enter a writing contest because 1.) I'd finished my third novel and was feeling a little discouraged (that's normal after finishing a first draft, isn't it?), and 2.) the writing contest was for a short story, which is actually where I prefer to write (I'm all about short attention spans).  I wrote no fewer than four different stories before finally honing in one one, revising and editing thanks to the lovely folks in the forum, and finally submitting it at the 11th hour.

Not pictured: author curled up in the fetal position, silently weeping

This morning I was minding my own business trying to sew a table runner when I got a notification that I had new e-mails.  I opened it to see this:

This better not be a joke, Bunting!

OMG THAT'S ME.  In the runner's up category.  Which feels like some kind of elaborate prank, especially since my work feels like an embarrassment after reading the other winners (don't read mine - read The Porthole).  I'm so excited - I'd resigned myself to just being satisfied with getting feedback from the judges that would hopefully not be "I hope you didn't quit your day job" (because I totally did).

BTW, I totally nailed the table runner as well (once I'd settled down and could sew without sewing myself to my fabric):

In my never-ending quest to make my house look like a grandma house/tea shop. 

Isn't that floral pattern gorgeous against the dark wood?  Plus it protects the table from dents and dings from the resident klutz (that would be me).