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Weekly Contest #343
I run down the street, clutching my bag to my chest, semi-wet hair slapping my face, sweat gathering, armpits darkening. The blue bus pulls in over the road. I know that driver; grumpy, rude, impatient. I’m sure he’s seen me but he looks right through me. Most everyone does. Only three people are waiting at the bus stop today instead of the usual morning queue snaking its way to the corner. Three will take no time to board. I start to panic. Jason at the diner, world-weary for one so young, snapped yesterday, ‘late one more time Darlene and ...
Weekly Contest #327
“No, no, no. The polka dot ones, the small child ones, not these great big grey workmen’s socks.”She flicks her tail. Stares at me. Slides a raspy tongue along a delicate paw. Burps. Leaves by the patio door. ***It’s the children I want. Little bastards. Just like their parents when they were children. Little bastards. ***The veins on my hands are bulging today. An aging witch down on her powers and an ageless cat that has accompanied her throughout time and place until we ended up here in Porto Villa Rise, a cul-de-sac of brick houses buil...
Weekly Contest #317
“Mummy, look!” Vicky glanced at the tv screen.“No way,” she mouthed.“Oh, dammit.” Her cup of cocoa landed at her feet, the milky brown liquid soaking into her socks. “What is that, mummy?”“Um, I’m not sure, honey.”What was it? A bony arm dangled across the screen. Vicky leaned forward, staring. She reached for Skye, pulling the 10-year-old close while fumbling for the remote and turning up the sound.They both pulled back when the body belonging to the bony arm came into view. A scaly green creature with big, bulbous eyes and a wide grinning ...
Weekly Contest #268
1. Miranda Curlew, 1840. Wednesday Miranda Curlew had prepared with utmost care for her church entrance in the hope eligible men would be on display in St James Chapel By-The-Way where locals were known to sometimes shelter around lunchtime from the shrill wind which screamed through the village of Babbinton, where the ancient stone houses were built in rows of such tight proximity as to provoke long and mean wind tunnels even on a good day. The heavy door resisted before creaking inward. Miranda allowed her blac...
Weekly Contest #266
I see what he’s doing and I think I like it. Cropped dark hair, chiselled jaw, bulging arm muscles, tee-shirt stretched tight across my buff chest. I feel strong, invincible, an alpha male at my peak. I’m what you’d call a fine specimen. No one can defeat me. Ha, yes, I could get to like this, very much indeed. His bare arms rippled in the sun. He sprinted, leaping three metres and mounting the motorbike from behind. He revved wildly sending a cloud of fumes into the path of the red-headed gorilla chasing him on foot. The gorilla, a KGB hitm...
Weekly Contest #264
Buddy started out life as “that runty puppy”, the one with the weird orange patch on an otherwise silky black ear. He had seven sisters and a brother. In the crush, his mother, a sharp-nosed terrier of an indiscriminate tan color, was too overwhelmed to take notice of the smallest member of her litter. Buddy struggled to suckle because the others crawled over him and nudged him off the teat. If he could see himself, he would have realized he looked a little crazy. He had a lazy left eye. His right ear sat up high while his other ear flopped....
Weekly Contest #262
<1422> words Helter Swelter I can’t seem to get traction on the steering wheel. My fingers are slip sliding away. I grab some tissues and wipe down the leather, then wipe my hands, then grab some more tissues for my glistening face, then do it all again. I haven’t even made it out of my driveway. The clock says 7.49 am - the temperature says 98 degrees. How can it be this hot this early in the day? At least I’m early. Like, super, super early. I’d rather be early for this meeting than late, and I can get changed into so...
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