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Weekly Contest #58
It all started the night of the Storm. Catherine was alone, the tv in front of her playing reruns of Space Explorers while her hands went up and down, carefully stitching the lace onto a near perfectly crafted dress for an old victorian doll somewhere in Kansas. It was the same thing she had done the night before that and the night before that and the night before that and every ‘night before that’, as far back as she could remember. It had been this way so long that the days and years started to blur together into a steady fuzz of ba...
The 41st floor. I have always hated the 41st floor. Even all those years ago, on that first trip up there, even then I hated it. It was all I could do back then to not let my anxiety get the best of me. Several times I thought of just turning around, of going back to my superiors and telling them I’d done it without ever having to set foot on the actual floor. I never got the time to work up the nerve. In the midst of my moment of doubt, there was a groan in the cables and a ding as the elevator arrived at my destination. A sh...
Weekly Contest #25
The iron cuffs on Fawn’s wrist were feeling more and more like shackles every day now the closer she got to the end. There was something particularly constraining about them as she clung to the cliffside and was bombarded by sheets of rain and seaspray but she had come too far now to give in to their attacks. After a moment of hesitation, Fawn mustered all of her strength and was finally able to pull herself over the top of the cliff. Once she was safely on the stable ground she took a moment to steady herself. Time was running short a...
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