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Weekly Contest #103
Becca half squatted behind a large potted plant, phone pressed against her ear. As soon as the ringing stopped, Becca blurted, “Guess who's here?” “Becca?” The voice on the phone asked. “Yes, Marissa. But guess who's here?” “Who?” “Nathan!” “Who?” Marissa asked again, clearly lost. “Nathan!” Becca squealed loudly, then quickly dropped her tone, whispering, “You know Nathan!” Marissa paused for a moment too long and Becca filled in the silence. “You know Nathan! Tall, dark hair—I’m in love with him! Nathan!” “Oh…yeah…Nathan.” Marissa’s voice ...
“Here—” He pulled a card out of his wallet. “Take this.” The front was a picture of him, smiling and without a thought, I smiled back. “Goodnight!” He called, walking backward away from my front door as he grinned like an idiot. I smiled back and laughed. “Goodnight!” “Oh—” he called. “Check the back.” Flipping the card over, I could see that on the back were clearly written ten little numbers—his phone number. “So you don’t forget me!” He smiled, then dashed away. I could never forget it. And I never will. How can I—we had a hundred thing...
There was this moment this morning as I was leaving The Brew Haus, just after I crossed Second Street where I thought I had gone crazy. But I didn’t. I didn’t go crazy. And now I know. Six times today I’ve heard the same noise, a ping, like when your Google search has found something or your total at the register is $6 exactly, but today, I wasn’t looking for anything and I hadn’t bought anything. Like usual, I went to The Brew Haus at 7:05 AM. It was only two blocks from Apollos Tech; just close enough to grab a few lattes and just f...
Weekly Contest #102
It all started with a butterfly tattoo. And I guess that started at O’Maleys. And that started with Jack, this guy I met on the hospital shuttle. He was dying. Had been dying his whole life. Just like me, I suppose, only he felt it more that day. I was meant to go to Ward 6, the Cardiology department, as I did every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday. He was meant to go to Ward 11, the Oncology department, where he lived. Only, he meant to never go back. He told me this as he pulled on the loose strings poking out of the seat in front of ...
I noticed it when I was eleven. My parents were getting a divorce and Mr. McGonnegy said they had been unhappy since I was born. Whenever they fought, Mr. McGonnegy would just look at me and shake his head and say, “They used to be happy, boy. All your fault.” McGonnegy’s cat was just as mean as he was and hissed at me as I ran past his yard. My parents didn’t even stop me; I just bolted out of the dining room and burst out the front door. I ran just to run, to feel my feet punch the hard pavement. It was near midnight, and the street was d...
They say it’s haunted—the gray green house just down the street. For thirty-two years I’ve watched that house. We all have—my grandmother, my mother, and me. We have seen families and bachelors, divorcees and old maids, first loves and broken hearts all enter the gray green house just down the street. They enter ignorantly, but they leave…changed. They leave haunted.The Cohen family—that poor man Jasper and his frail wife Amelia—they didn’t last but a week. They moved into the cursed house on the night of the twelfth, with absolutely no rega...
Weekly Contest #17
“Is anyone allergic to pumpkin?” Miri called from the kitchen. “Pumpkin?” Axel asked, looking up from his Town and Country. “Is that even an allergy?” “Anything can be an allergy. Like how I’m allergic to you,” Timber quipped to Axel. Miri laughed as the grown men knocked each other to the floor, tussling as Canaan shouted over their grunts. Hollers of “100 points! 100 points to the redhead!” floated from the living room to the kitchen. “You’re the redhead!” Timber yelled to Canaan out of the struggle. “You don’t get points, ya noob!” &nbs...
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