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Weekly Contest #360
Ask any art thief which would be worse, reaching the trophy room only to find that the treasure they came for was already gone, or being caught red-handed after successfully obtaining the said treasure, and you’ll get a split response. It all depends on their motives. Are they doing it for the thrill? For pride? For clout? Or are they doing it because they’re desperate for the payout? The ones who want the glory would choose the first answer. Those in need of cash would no doubt go with the second. But what if the reason behind a heist was...
Weekly Contest #359
Icy wind nipped at my cheeks as my boots crunched over the fresh snow, still falling. At the right angle, in the heavily steeped darkness, the flakes could be bits of glittering stardust instead of frozen fractals of water. “Here I am,” I whispered into the endless night. No one whispered back. Behind me, the lights strung up around the huddled buildings of Esperanza Base gave off a faint golden glow, and the comforting hum of music, conversation and laughter spilled out from the community hall. The Midwinter party was in full swing, eve...
Weekly Contest #353
When people ask me how or why I chose to get into this line of work, I tell them the story of my grandfather’s funeral. Which, I know, is never what they’re expecting to hear. They assume I’ll cite a lifelong fascination with dinosaurs, or perhaps a penchant for piecing together puzzles. A few probably think I’ll tell them that I loved playing in sandboxes as a kid. And sure, I did think dinosaurs were cool. I still do. Everyone does, and if they say they don’t they’re lying. And yeah, I guess I liked playing with puzzles and making sandc...
Weekly Contest #349
“Are you sure about this, Ollie?” Olivia winces as she tightens the laces of her boots. The only thing she’s unsure about is what hits her harder; how even beneath the ever-present crackle of radio static, she can hear the fear in Ben’s voice, or how this could be the last time she ever hears that nickname, the one that only he has ever called her. Swallowing the knot in her throat, she finishes with her laces and grabs the hand mic from the desk. “I’m sure.” Her response is resolute, unyielding. She’s made her choice, and even though ...
Domesticated pigs will turn completely feral within months of being introduced to a wild environment. Tusks and bristles and aggression emerge, and the soft, pink disguise they wear for farmers and children’s books dissolves like it was never there at all. It’s written in their genes to be able to switch like that, becoming what they need to become in order to best survive whatever conditions they find themselves in. This, he thinks, is something that humans and pigs have in common. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he remembers reading ...
Weekly Contest #346
Leah’s eyes widened as the shape of the next highway sign came into view in the distance. Her steady pace faltered for a few steps, and she came to a stop before she ended up tripping over her feet. Anticipation and anxiety coiled like twin snakes around her heart, winding more tightly to keep it from beating straight out of her chest. She had no idea how long she’d been walking, how many miles she’d already traversed. Many. Dozens, likely, or even hundreds. But suddenly, closing the distance between where she stood and the next exit seemed ...
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