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Submitted to Contest #322
“Excuse me, mister?” a small voice asked.I gazed up from my lectern, but saw nothing there. Too bored and jaded to care, I returned to grading essays. "Professor Cazador, please," the voice echoed once more. I stood to find a young girl, 12 or 13. Her tan cloak suggested she was a student at the local school. She would probably attend this community college when she graduated. She’d probably even take my class on The Collapse. Currently 2232, next year would mark the 200-year anniversary of the catastrophe. I taught this mandatory course abo...
Submitted to Contest #319
"Let's set you right here, little buddy," Colin said. His perfectly-tousled hair stayed in place as he turned his head, checking his surroundings. His clients weren't there yet. He lifted the gray kitten up to a branch of the tree in the front yard. "That's perfect," Colin said. The kitten mewed, gripping the treebark with its tiny claws. He smoothed his freshly-pressed button-down shirt and checked his new Rolex as a white Rolls Royce pulled into the driveway. Right on time. A tasteful, suede high heel stepped out of the passenger side, fol...
Submitted to Contest #294
Laura Wheatley A normal person probably couldn't hear themselves think over the teeth-rattling knocks of the impact wrench or the shrill scream of the grinder, but when you're a Wheatley, these noises are more familiar than a television. I would know, having spent most of my days after school at Wheatley's Spare Parts, the “mechanical parts store” in our small town; but let's be real – it's a junkyard. The usual teenage girl might scoff at the dark grease and dirt under my fingernails, or feign a headache at the tang of gasoline ...
Submitted to Contest #287
The man – tall, thin, and dressed in a well-fitting suit – picked up the tea kettle, testing the temperature on his wrist like a baby bottle. Satisfied, he poured steaming water over a teabag in a delicate china cup before setting it in its saucer with a clatter. A bodyguard – the huge one, who had so roughly dragged Margot to this warehouse in the middle of nowhere – had briefed her on her captor. His name was Bucktooth Bill. But as she sat across the cold metal table from th...
Submitted to Contest #278
"Hello, hello, hello!" Rachel's boisterous voice rang out across the restaurant. Samantha peered over the back of her booth, brushing her brunette curls off her forehead. She grinned. “Happy Birthday!” Rachel said, as she set a gift, wrapped in boutique style, on the table before leaning in for a tight hug. "What is this? I told you no gifts!" Sam said.“You know that means nothing to me," she said, pushing the box across the table. "C'mon, Sammie, open it.”Sam took her time opening the gift, her gestures exaggerated as she unt...
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