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Submitted to Contest #102
TW: murder "My father is a policeman!" I yelled as I held up my phone to record an argument I was having with an old woman. It had always been my go-to excuse to everything, from bullying to being rude with strangers on the streets. I basically used it to get what I want. It had always been effective, anyway. My high-pitched, 13-year-old voice paired with my public tantrums had always been the perfect duo for my budding attitude. My father was indeed a policeman, I mighty one, you might say. I describe him as brave and strong, with hi...
Submitted to Contest #103
A mysterious man came up to me in one of my dreams. He was wearing a soaking wet cloak and a huge hat covering the top half of his dim face. He reached for my arm and bent over, whispering something into my trembling ears. "Your life has been measured with words. You've got three more left before you die. Use it wisely while you're out there in the waking world. Your entire life and relationships may or may not depend on that, but it is up to you to determine where your last words go. Good luck." I woke up catching my breath. I felt damp...
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