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Weekly Contest #345
In a matter of seconds the tone in the cafe car shifted. First, phones began to whine. Blatant. Obnoxious. Synchronous. Coming from each of the passengers in the car, the attendant behind the counter and the ticket taker resting in the half chair toward the back. Twenty passengers, some alone, some traveling with others; their heads buried in their phones. Staring blankly as if the combination of words on they were seeing broke them. Once the realization set in, they plastered their faces against the windows. Cheeks wiping the glass as if th...
Weekly Contest #337
Part I: The First Days “Look, I can’t be eating dry sausage and potatoes every day. I need variety!” Brother Kevin’s complaint echoed through the stone refectory, his frustration evident in every syllable.Brother Mortimer, ever the voice of patience, responded with the measured tone of a man who had weathered far worse.“Patience, Brother Kevin. If variety is what the Lord had planned for you, he wouldn’t have sent you up to our mountain top begging for redemption. This is not uncommon. We’ve been through worse spells in the 500 years this co...
Weekly Contest #335
I dig around the crevices of my comforter. My phone is in there somewhere. When I finally find it, I’m greeted by the time. 4:07. Morning. Hence my being in bed. The 4th night in a row I’ve woken exactly at this time. Had there been any other inkling that my studio apartment is haunted, I would believe in supernatural intervention in my life.Can ghosts even haunt apartment buildings?This time I was trudging through the streets of Stalingrad. By the uniforms and emblems of the men around me, I can deduce I’m Soviet. The explosions all around ...
Weekly Contest #333
"What can I get ya?" Stan, the bartender, in a white shirt and black vest, approaches Ryan, tossing a coaster onto the bar in front of him. "Your Old Fashioned. Is it muddled?" "No sir. We make ours the classic way." "I'll take one of those to start." Stan snatches a mixer and retreats to the other side of the bar. Pulling a bottle of bourbon off the glass shelf, he begins to mix the drink. Ryan peers around the crowded hotel bar. Although the bar is packed, due in part to the trade show going on in the hotel conference rooms along with the ...
Weekly Contest #331
CW: Contains strong language "Give me a sec. The McCarthy group was supposed to send over the TC7 form by 5. I just want to check if it's in my email." Jake places his red solo cup in the corner and leaves his company's annual Christmas Eve-Eve party.Standing over his desk chair, he impatiently scrolls through his emails. Todd sneaks up and sticks his head over the cubicle wall."What's up you workaholic. You gonna be working Christmas Day too?""Todd, Jesus." Jake whips around, startled."Woah, didn't mean to scare ya.""I just didn't think any...
Weekly Contest #330
For the concierge at the Hotel Danieli, observing the comers and goers was a daily habit he normally paid no mind to. However, throughout his five years at this desk, he couldn’t remember a moment quite like this one. A woman, late sixties, seated on the velvet couch with a white porcelain urn on the mahogany coffee table opposite her. A small one—travel-sized, he presumed. For a moment, he thought he caught her lips moving, as if she were in conversation with it.“My name is Heather Cabaro. I’m in room 408. I know it’s late, but I’m wonderin...
Weekly Contest #328
**This story contains sensitive content including suicide and violence** Ellis Rowe awoke to the rhythmic toll of the digital timer that now appeared across his monitor. Oh, and the screeching ring of the alarm filling his cell.“Ahhh, come on man, not today,” he said, his voice echoing off the metal walls of his twelve-by-ten cell. In fact, the entirety of the cell was metal. The bed, the toilet, the desk—all a shiny plated aluminum. Or at least he assumed it was plates, yet he never found a seam, not a single connection point. It was ...
Weekly Contest #327
The smokey alley was bitterly cold that night. A blustery wind stampeded through the narrow space between buildings, but none of us left our perches. I was but a kitten when I saw that interview, resting on the edge of a fire exit, peering down through a heavily mullioned window of a first floor studio apartment. Others were staggered over piles of cardboard boxes or sitting on the closed lid of a dumpster. The apartment’s owner, a human, had the habit of leaving the TV on over night, presumably the static was to drown out the rustling of us...
Weekly Contest #325
I lay in bed watching the sunlight fill the room. The first beam of light always rested on her pillow to my left. A gentle grin filled my face. She always hated that beam of light waking her up in the morning. She’d give a couple of swift kicks to the back of my legs, signaling me to get out of bed and close the curtains. Then I’d return to bed and we’d lie there, begging for those moments to last a lifetime.I rose out of bed, threw a robe over my shoulders, slid my feet into slippers, and made my way to the kitchen.“Coffee this morning?” I ...
Weekly Contest #324
It was 8 am. A bong, still smoking, rested on the coffee table at my extended feet. A familiar shame consumed me. In a small way, comforting. I looked around my apartment and thought, “What the fuck do I do now?”We finalized the papers Thursday afternoon. A half day of PTO wasted. I felt more emotion for loosing the vacation time. I haven’t been sober since I left the lawyer’s office, mindlessly jaywalked across the street and sat down on a stool at Kelly’s Bar across the street. In that immediate moment, my thinking was obsessed that she hi...
Weekly Contest #322
The low riders cruised the streets, blanketing dust onto their chrome wheel hubs. Off to the side, La Mala Vida. Distinguished by its collection of choppers resting on it’s curb. The metal grated door, making the bar feel more like a renovated home than an actual establishment. In the back, a singular, dimly lit pool table. A stack of cash lying loosely over the corner pocket. A gathering of Marines, anxiously standing at attention. Before he even pocketed the black eight ball, Rudi was making his way around the table to gather his winnings....
Weekly Contest #319
Let it be known, I write this story in defiance of the Norfolk council. For they would see the events of October 1659 hidden away, forgotten. But I cannot and will not live among the ignorance. Let this story serve to teach. Serve to teach all new settlers of America to be wary of witch folk.***My name is Abigail Thorne. At the time of the events in this story, I was 16 years old. You also must know, that roughly two months prior to the events of October 1659, an unknown force began threatening the townsfolk. People began finding strange run...
Weekly Contest #318
Raya awoke to find the sun had still not risen. Her third day in row beating the sun to start the day. She rose out of the bed and shuffled over to open the curtains. Despite the early morning hour, she was overtly aware of the futility in this action. The soft glow of two street lights below spared some light into her room. The street was lonely but off in the distance she saw a young man reach the base of the steep road. Friday would be two months in the small Irish coast town of Dingle. Raya was working as the personal assistant to a fair...
Weekly Contest #317
The sunken, makeshift basement was damp and dirty with electrical components strewn everywhere. In the background, the projection blared, “Why don’t I teach you the hard way?” Knox Ames proclaimed before landing a punch to jaw of a no name henchman. Lenny barreled down the staircase, knocking Miles awake. “Dude you gotta see this!” He shoved a hand in Miles’s face. His holo-ring projected a screen above his palm. The headline on the display read, ‘First government approved Time Vacation…to Disney World’ “They actually did it! That family cam...
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