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Weekly Contest #324
Vivien wanted to die. She’d only lived in London for three weeks, not that her surroundings were to blame– she quite enjoyed the mental subjugation living in a city brought unto the mind, and London offered a tranquility in the bustle that New York never had. It was the air that made her feel like she was a fish out of water, depending on the kindness of others rather than her own vitality to survive. Vivien hated being weak. Perhaps she had a naivety about her that Londoners pitied when she craned her neck to read the bus numbers posted on ...
I prayed to God for the first time yesterday. Well, it was sort of like praying. It was me kneeling at the edge of my bed, my knees firm against the ground and my overgrown nails digging into my bed sheets. Jesus probably thought I was trying to kill him. I wonder if he’d listen more if I was friendlier. I’d always thought that adults like me were supposed to pray in more dignified places, like church, even if nobody told you those kinds of rules. I felt like a kid kneeling at the foot of my bed and looking up at my popcorn ceiling. I hated ...
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