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Weekly Contest #355
Perhaps it’d been the air, or something to be imagined by the attendees, but it felt as though a thick miasma had been cast over the processions. “He’d been a leader, a friend, and a son-” the priest droned on, attendees waiting patiently for him to finish. Tucker Parson’s mother sat in the first row crying her heart out, a silent and stoic father waiting for it all to end sat to her right. A shaky hand silently caressing her back, hoping for this nightmare to be over. A crestfallen wife and a dead son; the only things left to him in this wo...
Weekly Contest #354
“Honey, you’re a mess,” Madam Lian said. Lipstick smeared the right corner of her tooth. She motioned for her to come closer, Lian’s finger wet with spit as she wiped away excess mascara from Elise’s eyes. The only sign she had even been crying. “This isn’t the time for tears; the clients have been pushing this showing forward for months, and we can’t afford to let them down.” Her eyebrows pushed together as she rubbed away. Her sharp fingernails were almost breaking skin at each forceful push inwards. Whether it was concerns for Elise, or c...
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