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Weekly Contest #272
Three women missing, so far. Three women in just six months. The daily news has become obsessed with the narrative, smothering us in stories from every angle. It’s all anyone is talking about, since everyone has an opinion. “It’s always the husband,” the shopkeeper says matter-of-factly, crossing her arms. “Did you hear that she turned down a colleague for a date? Sounds like he was bitter about it,” murmurs the waitress at the local café. “Maybe if she didn’t sleep around so much, she wouldn’t have gotten herself into trouble,” says the bar...
Weekly Contest #57
The old man hunched awkwardly over his desk, the back of his head lit up by a halo of sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains. No noise existed in that moment but his breath: shallow and ragged, his lungs feeling every one of his seventy-nine years breathing on this earth. His fingers, gnarly from years of painful arthritic suffering, loosely gripped a biro. The pen was desperate to make contact with the sheet of paper it was hovering over. It was determined to tell the old man’s story. And yet he held off, contemplating the exact...
Weekly Contest #56
10 am. It’s only 10 am. You woke up at 2am, then 3.31am, 4.17am, 5.29am... and that’s when you decided to be up for the day. Since I’m your mum, I’m forced to wake up with you however unsociable the hour may be. Thing is, the life I lived before you was one in which I gave the orders, but now I appear to be living in a dictatorship in which I have no say. It’s a hell of a learning curve and I’m not close to getting to grips with it yet.I stagger downstairs with you grunting away in my arms and lump heavily on the sofa. A muslin is thrown o...
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