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Weekly Contest #78
“Please tell me those are sex toys.” Lys jerked her chin at the collection mysterious objects scattered across the frosted glass cafe table in between Renée’s mimosa and the one mercifully awaiting her. “It’s brunch, Lys.” Renée flickered her fingers in a cheerful wave at the two women at the next table over who whipped around to glare quickly enough that they nearly sent their twin red hats sailing into the mild April breeze. “Would I bring sex toys to brunch?” “Let’s see.” Lys thunked her immense shoulder bag on to the sidewalk b...
Weekly Contest #52
Why do they tell us? Why give us time? I’m sure you remember me wailing this three hundred and sixty-three days ago. I know you remember me wailing these questions long into the night. You had an answer. They should steal you from your bed on the day? People in masks with a bag for your head? I told you then—how many times have I told you since?—that I wouldn’t say no to a bag, a blindfold, a cigarette. The classics, I snapped, no longer wailing, on the outside, at least. You fixed me with that look—I know you know the one—...
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