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Weekly Contest #349
Today is April 31st, 2032, my city outside my window had changed its skin like a snake.Vengeance Day or what once was called May Day now is now euphemistically known as “My Day”Mentioned so casually like it was some harmless holiday, like Sweetest Day or Arbor Day. It’s been six years since the laws were rewritten after the riots, the referendums, the endless debates about “Rights and Reparations” Once a year on this date, for twelve hours, every law and statute is suspended. No police, no courts, no consequences where anything goes, until t...
Weekly Contest #348
Mina Monroe moved to Los Feliz, California with a dream, a cracked iPhone, and a certainty that she would be seen. She always believed in a glow, not the hazy Los Feliz sunrise filtering through her dusty balcony doors, but the sharper, brighter one she chased like so many young girls online. At twenty-six, she was still “aspiring,” to be a Hollywood actress, which in Los Feliz meant waiting tables at Mess Hall and posting daily TikToks from her tiny one-bedroom apartment on Sunset Blvd. Her apartment sat above Café Europa, a coffee shop on ...
Weekly Contest #347
My name is apparently not important to THEM. They never call me anything. In my head I call myself Maeve. It rhymes with Fave and Gave and that is exactly how I feel. I give and I give; I give of myself. Do this and do that when asked. I don’t have many friends and sometimes I feel so very alone. I wish I was one of those schoolgirls who wears too much hairspray, holds too many books and chews gum way too fast.My Maeve would have way too many friends, is overconfident, a beautiful dream dish who likes to pretend. My Maeve would have gotten a...
Weekly Contest #346
“I am Atiwaka. Son of Eagle Claw. This is our land; this is where my people live”I’ve lived on the Great Lake like my father and his father’s father before him. I know who I am, but I do not know why I am here at this time, right now at this moment. I know this place, but not the hour. This place has somehow changed. I am Atiwaka, of the Erieye people. My time was of the Crow, the season of the Deer Moon.We were preparing for the long winter in our long huts, before the snows came when the Seneca arrived from the east, from the land of the r...
Weekly Contest #345
The cigar smoke-filled stage reverberated with applause as the gaslights flickered and the thick burgundy velvet curtain descended Chicago’s Aragon Ballroom in the autumn of 1907. A thunderous ovation erupted from the packed house, “Velouté and Garçon! Velouté and Garçon!” the adoring crowd chanted, their cheers echoing off the gilded proscenium. Onstage, the tall, elegant Mr. Velouté, impeccably dressed in his black tailcoat, rose slowly from the gold leafed wooden chair and bowed deeply, his arm draped around the diminutive Pierre Garçon, ...
Weekly Contest #344
Includes sensitive content of death and burial Father Gianpaolo, I am sending this article to you and as we have previously crossed paths and will surely do so again. I am moving forward with this legislation here in our State. Attached is the article that shows clarity to my position on composting human remains or Natural Organic Reduction, known as NOR.(May 21 2019) Washington Democratic Gov. Jay Inslee signs legislation to legalize the natural organic reduction or composting of human remains effective May 1, 2020. The law bill 5001, allow...
Weekly Contest #342
“Get these damn things out of me! Get them off. Please get them off! My God what just happened? I can’t breathe!” Help me!”“Please try to stay still, we are doing our best. Men be careful getting those off”“Please I can feel them alive inside me”“There are just too many of them. We must make sure we get them all, one at a time so they don’t split and multiply”It was then that I apparently passed out. The medical staff dressed in hazmat suits and cumbersome fiber gloves, meticulously operated those specially designed titanium tweezers. The 3-...
Weekly Contest #340
I’ve always known I was born for greatness. Crafted from true-straight, fire hardened ash wood, worn smooth and gripped tight by eager hands. The Louisville Slugger of dreams - the bat that could send a baseball soaring into legend.My brothers and sisters whispered about it constantly: “One day, you’ll crack a homer that echoes forever.” And for a while, it felt true.Nino and Daniel are the reasons I exist. They loved me. They really did. Every afternoon, they’d drag me out, where the grass was patchy, but the light was perfect, and we’d pla...
Weekly Contest #339
I couldn’t take her anymore. She asked stupid questions. Selfish questions. Inappropriate questions, like; “Why are you still single? Are those real? When are you having kids? You look horrible, are you okay? How much money do you make? Where are you actually from? Why don't you drink? Did you plan It? Isn't that a little expensive for you? You are so quiet, why don't you talk?”As much as I wanted nothing to do with her, I couldn’t shake her. There seemed to be no getting rid of her. She knew my secret. She knew she had one over on me. The f...
Weekly Contest #337
Rodney Billingsley’s life ended in a bar fight. At twenty-seven, an astrophysicist engineer with dreams of finally marrying his high school sweetheart and having a family.“Beatrice, I took these pictures last night of Andromeda and Sirius from my Celestron spectral telescope, aren’t they wonderful? I wish we could go there for our honeymoon”“I just want to go anywhere with you darling. You have worked so hard, now we can finally get married! God, I love this song, Die with a Smile (by Lady Gaga and Bruno Mars)Out celebrating his new promotio...
Weekly Contest #336
“Who the hell do you think you are, asking me a question like that?” she said.“Ha, I just asked you if you like girls” I said.“None of your fucking business, go to hell!”“C’mon let’s go”“Wait a minute Snosh, I think she likes me?”“Likes you? She just told you, to go to fuck off and go to hell”“She’s playing hard to get and she’s just talking dirty to me”“You’d be lucky, if you only got slapped”We were walking the mile long strip on High Street at Ohio State from bar to bar, dives and dance clubs trying to pick up a girl or two. We had been a...
Weekly Contest #335
“Sir your bag is over the size limit for a Carry On”I was taking a flight from Cleveland to Fort Myers, Florida on one of those discount airlines, SkyJet after the Christmas Holiday cold to spend New Year’s Eve in Florida. I had paid for my seat, but not the early priority boarding pass.“I’m sorry sir you will have to pay an additional $100 for your bag”My backpack needed to fit in the metal box unit that passengers needed to insert to make sure it met their stringent requirements.“But look it fits”“Sir, it’s sticking up past the restricted ...
Weekly Contest #333
Furci. To my 9-yr old ear, the name sounded Japanese. But it was a town next to my family’s ancestral hometown of Santa Teresa di Riva, Sicily, near Taormina. Furci, Pronounced Foor Chee. That is where Gioanna Garufi lived with her parents and younger brother Fillipo, who they called Pippo, in a high rise on the 7th floor overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Gioanna would be my little sister Grace and my babysitter that August night in 1971 when our parents went out for the evening with her parents. Gioanna was the 15-year-old chestnut haired ...
Weekly Contest #332
Sunday, December 8th, 1975, Roger Staubach threw a pass to Drew Pearson to lift the Cowboys over the Vikings in the NFL playoffs, infamously remembered as the Hail Mary. But for me, that next day, my Hail Mary prayer was for Tammy. She was all I wanted for Christmas. God, I couldn’t get her out of my mind or enough of her. She loved that jolly rancher green apple hard candy and the song, Bennie and the Jets by Elton John. I rode my sister’s banana bike over to her apartment faster than a jet as soon as she was home from school. I was 13 and ...
Weekly Contest #331
The alarm clock screamed at 10:13 a.m. as the snow had been steadily falling. The room spun like a slow-motion car wreck, a carousel of bad decisions, as Frank peeled his eyes open like an onion, they teared. His mouth tasted like ash and regret, the remnants of last night’s whiskey binge clawing at his throat like his old wool blanket. What happened after last call? He must have driven home through that snowstorm because he spied the keys on the kitchen table. He remembered hearing the song, “Sky High” by Jigsaw on the radio. His house key ...
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