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Weekly Contest #313
Sensitive Content: Mentions of gun violence, murder, and misogyny. Soft and creamy, warm on the nose like melted icing. A hint of something brown, of something that burns, mixing with the sweetness and surrendering to its strength. Margo breathed in deep through her nose, her shoulders hunching up to her ears. The scent lingered in the air, danced across the AC induced breeze, and catapulted her back, back, back, to a time she didn’t much think about these days. Flashes of childhood followed the smell. Flashes of lake days, pads of the fe...
Weekly Contest #43
Rule #1 of staying at grandpa's house: don't go looking for things you can't explain to your therapist without looking delusional. Hearing her mother recite this rule was Monet's first memory of the now consistent summer trips to Paris, France, where her grandfather had holed up since his wife died. The trips had started when she was twelve, old enough to take care of herself, since her grandfather wasn't much of a babysitter, but young enough to not complain about the long flight and weird food. Now, at eighteen, her long legs aching and th...
Weekly Contest #32
First was the gunshot. It echoed off the stony walls of the nearby buildings and assaulted Ace’s eardrums. His head ducked and his shoulders shot up to his ears. He stood frozen for a moment, his jaw hanging open on a hinge. Second was the realization. He’d been walking alongside a woman, their fingers intertwined, their shoulders brushing with each step. Now she was strewn across the dirty sidewalk, her stomach trembling with each ragged breath she dared to take. Ace dropped to his knees and pressed his hands against her abdomen...
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