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Weekly Contest #108
A weekend camper went missing in Rocky Mountain National Park. It happened a lot. Enough that the park relied on volunteers to help find people when they disappeared. I hadn’t been doing it long, but there was a certain draw to setting out on the trail of someone who’d disappeared. And this particular disappearance was confusing. By all accounts, Joseph Kinneman, who was twenty-eight and a high school basketball coach, was in excellent physical condition. He and his pals spent most of their free time in the park, hiking, rock climbing, ca...
Shortlisted for Contest #100 ⭐️
Beauty is like the eels our old cook, Mathilde, would purchase at the market: slippery, sinuous, but delicious, when contained. As a girl, before life and my own ugliness had pressed me into the resentful shadow I am now, I would sneak down to the kitchen in late morning, when she’d return with a basketful of them. “Miss Ana, you’re not supposed to be down here, yeh know,” she’d gently chastise at me. “Yeh’re missing yer lessons, letters, numbers, pianoforte.” “They’ve finished,” I’d respond, pressing my thumb into the still glisten...
Weekly Contest #20
The generic hotel comforter pressed down on her, decidedly uncomfortable. Despite the fact that Nanchang in early December felt more like late April in New York, the thermostat in their tiny suite was locked, unwavering, at an unbearable eighty-two degrees. She sighed and pressed her cheek against the damp pillowcase. Her right arm was pinned under the over-sized head of the tiny, slumbering body beside her. She wiggled her tingling fingers, watching them dance in the bluish light streaming in through the rain-spatte...
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