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Weekly Contest #102
TW: murder To whom it may concern, My name is Rob Conway, and I’m a monster. We all were back then. Monsters with an insatiable appetite to hurt others. But it wasn’t our fault. At least that’s what I tell myself at night to fall asleep without dreaming about him. It wasn’t our fault. It was the Shadow’s fault. But let me tell you everything from the top… It all started in 1956, in Newberry, a small, coastal town where the cliffs met the sea, and the everlasting green hills were dressed in groves and rivers. It was a nice town to live...
Weekly Contest #101
Vinny was a garbageman for almost twenty years, driving his truck around the suburban areas of Brimstone, picking people’s garbage, driving them back to the incarcerator, and watching them burn. But everything changed that night. Boots, gloves, and bright green vest on, coffee lukewarm in his thermos, and his MP3 player loaded with rock anthems, after the usual routine, Vinny was set for another drive around Brimstone, eagerly anticipating for the incarcerator moment. After almost twenty years in this job, his mind was usually absent durin...
Weekly Contest #100
The smell of the frizzling onions and carrots fused with the aroma of Michael's Pinot Noir. The blues songs blended with the cutting and knifing sounds from the kitchen. Michael sat comfortably in his chair, Plato’s Republic on his lap, and listened to his mother singing along from the kitchen. “I could have been a singer, Mickey,” his mother used to say. “But your father stole my hearts and dreams,” she always added, and they all shared a laugh. The dogs barked outside. Not their hungry bark, but their excited one. His father was home. “Eas...
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