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Weekly Contest #308
I met him in the early summer of ‘83. The time of year when you could see cattle drives over the hills and the brothels were in good business. The Dodge City War was raging and the farmers were still recovering from the Locust Plague from a few summers before. I wasn’t supposed to be out so late. My mother and father worried I’d get shot, but I had to work late, tailoring a dress for a brothel girl I owed a favor. I was freshly 17 and yearning for independence, so I took the long way home. He was leaving the saloon when I first saw him. He l...
Weekly Contest #262
The headlights pierced through thick New England fog as Henry Creek and his son Edgar drove the winding road to Calais. The prestigious Wormwood Academy lay a mere two miles outside of the town and was the closest American boarding school to Canada. The father and son were picking up the third member of their family, Wynona. The pair of them grew more and more silent as the gates to the school approached. Picking up Wynona was always difficult. Henry would never admit this, not even to himself, but he thought of her as the problem child. The...
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