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Weekly Contest #125
He only intended to bring down the moon. That was what the rabbit in the tall hat and red cape told the boy. A simple trick, he said, though it had to be done exactly right. “Wait and see,” he said, winking one of his big black eyes in the boy’s direction. He sat down on a bale of hay and began gently plucking at the strings of his violin, putting down his long ears over it and twisting the little pegs at the top. “What will you do with it?” the boy asked. “With what?” “The moon.” “I’ll put it in my pocket for ...
Weekly Contest #54
The typewriter carriage rattled back. The paper rolled up smoothly from the turning bar. The keys clattered their jangled music, edgy letters punching black into white. &nb...
Weekly Contest #51
“Once upon a time,” Hilda says, then opens an eye and peeks over at me. “Watch the stars,” she says, “don’t look at me, you have to keep your eyes on the stars or the story won’t work properly. Now.” I look up at the sky and try to focus on the constellations penciled up there in the murky blue, and not on Hilda’s scratchy breathing beside me. “Once upon a time,” she begins again, and pauses an instant, probably looking at me to make sure I’m not looking at her, but my eyes are glued to the sky. “There was a man who thou...
Weekly Contest #44
You wrap strands of hair through your fingers and pull as hard as you can. You do it in the bathroom and then come out, and she’s been doing it too, and you’re both crying. Crying because it’s the right thing to do when you’re saying goodbye. After three days together you’re tired of her and ready to go home and she feels the same and you both know it and don’t care, but still, you have to cry. “I’ll e-mail you,” she says, and you smile and don’t say anything because she doesn’t mean to lie. You never hear from her, and she...
Weekly Contest #41
It was very cold. Snow fell in thick flakes from the dark sky as I walked towards the main street of town. Firelight flooded from the windows, turning ...
Weekly Contest #30
The Coffeemaker lived on La Rossa Strada, so named because most of the buildings on either side of the street were painted red. He lived in the upstairs of an old building faded nearly to pink, and had his coffee shop in the downstairs, where large windows looked out on the wide, stone street. A bright counter ran in a gleaming curve like a wooden C around the left side of the shop, as seen from outside. Behind the counter, like a great palace in miniature, was the machine. The Coffeemaker’s espresso machine. It stood nearly three feet...
Weekly Contest #19
The shop was built in the hedgerow by Mr. Hornberg’s field; a neat shop with brass trimmings on the door and a velvet cord bell pull, even though the sign said to step right in. The little doormat was very new and bristly and the word ‘Welcome’ had been put on with fine dark paint that crackled when you stepped on it. When the door was opened, a string of red and blue bells tinkled softly, hanging down from the ceiling. Also hanging from the ceiling of thick wooden beams were shining copper kettles, painted every color you could t...
Weekly Contest #16
“It was love at first sight,” Graham said, climbing up on the piano in his sock feet to light the chandelier. “Excuse me, it was not.” Elizabeth tossed a thin cloth like frothed gold over the table and set golden candlesticks on it. “It was for me,” Graham said, fire in his hands, laughing down at her from the piano. “I’m only speaking for myself.” “Even for himself he isn’t telling the truth,” Elizabeth said to us, her silvery dress catching the light every way she moved. Her quick fingers lit the candles and her bre...
Shortlisted for Contest #14 ⭐️
Birds in the trees, singing like there would never be another sun, a white house by a gravel driveway, dew on the grass, the dogs still sleeping; the world held still the day you were born. Somewhere a child let go of their balloon, and it floated up above the clouds, going to the moon for you. A whale rolled over down under the dark mountains of blue water, and it sang a song meant for you. The stars burned brighter because of you. There was no moon in the sky that night. The stars drowned in a swamp of black cl...
Weekly Contest #8
Once, when the world was smaller than it is now, but much more unknown, a peacock sat sunning himself on a rock in a grassy field. The sun slanted down across his lovely feathers in a pleasant, drowsy way, and the peacock had nothing to do, and nowhere to be. He was almost asleep when he heard a rustling in the grass. The peacock stood up. He ruffled his feathers carefully, tucking them into position, ready to face whatever it was. In a moment it came into view. The peacock jumped in surprise. He had only seen these t...
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