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Weekly Contest #354
It’s the most perfect thing I’ve never seen. It spins. I only know this because everything around it spins. You can’t really describe it — it’s not made for description. It doesn’t care that I’m here right now watching it. It’s not performing for me. But I want to believe that because it’s so beautiful. Humans are visual creatures; we know this from birth. After the darkness of the womb the first few moments of light are frightening. After a time we crave that excitement. The new. A new color, a new shape. Endless possibilities of combinatio...
Weekly Contest #351
This Works Depicts Death and Grief. He was always uncomfortable sitting in hospitals. The chairs were always the kind of thinly padded uncomfortable seats you sit in when they size your feet in a shoe store. Not meant to be sat on for countless hours as the faces of the nurses and doctors revolve. Listening to the constant beeps and tubes. I don’t see them sitting on these chairs, he thought as he watched a nurse swiveling back and forth on an office chair behind the counter. He got up to close the door. Before he could make it all the way...
Weekly Contest #350
"Your name, Convict?" The man in the blue hat said in a slightly French accent. Like he had moved to America a while ago. He was a lot bigger than me — a lot older than me — and on the better side of the table from me. He knew what was going on. And he wasn't in cuffs. "Why am I in cuffs?" "The convict will give iz name." "How am I a convict?! I've never even had a trial. How can I already be convicted if you don't even know my name, huh? Answer that for me, Mr. Blue Hat Guy?" I sat back and put my hands together. "I really do not want to pl...
Weekly Contest #342
She saw him from across the river. Small fruit bushes lined the shores and she was filling an animal hide - and her stomach - with as many as would fit. The sun was the highest it would be all day. Her fingers stained dark purple from the juice, she might have missed him completely. -Had it not been for his loud breathing. That’s when she saw his camp, it was small so it must have been new. It was surprising to see. Her mother and father had taught her not to set camp right on a river. You might as well throw yourself in a beast’s jaws. It o...
Weekly Contest #341
“Well if it isn’t my favorite asshole!” Manny threw his towel down and reached below the bar. He popped back up holding a fresh Milson Light over his head. Smoke scattered in his wake.“If it isn’t the bartender closest to my home.” Mark sat at the stool in front of the taps of the long oak bar and accepted the bottle. The pride of McGill’s—it was over two hundred years old. Legend has it that Seamus McGill floated to shore on this piece of wood after anti-Irish mobs set their ship ablaze in the harbor.None of it had ever been proven—but ha...
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