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Weekly Contest #300
They finished building the casino three days after Zion’s torso got sliced in half and the pigeons fled the plaza. It stood tall, stories above the crumpled houses and bars in its proximity, and the windows – brand new and untouched yet by the angry fists of men at nightfall, scared to return home several hundred bucks lighter – glowed in the sunlight. When asked about the building, Magdalene, whose house was just a few meters to the right, said it shadowed her entire garden and that sooner or later her flowers would perish; Gino, a well-kno...
Weekly Contest #287
‘I say let the world go to hell, but I should always have my tea’ - Fyodor Dostoevsky Summer 1992, 7th cup The tea still works, even though it shifts and alters more than it should. My skin is tighter, I feel it around my chin and my collarbones, but it takes curious forms here and there, either too smooth or too sharp. The first time it happened, I barely noticed – I was blinded by relief, youth. I don’t recognize my own reflection anymore. Now my patience wears thin where it once stretched long, my thoughts move too quickly and my moods s...
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