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Weekly Contest #211
It’s a cottage on the white-cap hill. Alone among groves, alone among night. Snow boils down from the sky, glittering under the hue of the iron-blue moon, padding down onto the footpath that climbs the hill up to the cottage. The wind carries a storm. Candlelight lacquers orange onto the walls. Wax drips down the pricket. The door creaks shut, followed by soft footsteps through the landing. Quickly down the s...
Weekly Contest #209
A pad of paper on the dashboard. Three tally-lines through the middle. Stopwatch counting down from twenty-seven minutes. The man gets out of his car and shuts the door behind him. He mutters a quick goodbye to the passenger and walks head down towards the white light of the gas station. The bell chimes. Lemon freshener and the smell of sweet breads. Clerk in the back aisle lost in his music. A remix of Counting Stars. Something to get the limbs moving and brain-wires firing. ...
Weekly Contest #138
Submerged beneath an icy depth, head in an oak whisky barrel, he rose and flicked back his hair and looked to the sky. Fresh. Under the candour of stars.Have the constellations of this Terra-System been named, he wondered.A towel provided imbalance to his nude. Best to wash after travelling. Washes away fatigue. He picked up his white linens and pulled over his shirt and worked into a pair of loose-fitting trousers.His journal awaited his entry, resting on a wooden crate with the typographic: 3466e.Terra-system 0’s current fixture in time.He...
Weekly Contest #137
Andy Sorkin tensed the marginal muscle that corded his arms.His physique was in the past, lost with the internecine of the war.Could do with a pump, he thought, turning around to admire his back.Artistry. That’s what his body was – used to be, he corrected.Every contour that ribbed his back, delineated with days of his life. Roids was a familiar word. Spoken by the insecure. But it was always complimentary the way he h...
Weekly Contest #135
The messenger entered the throne room. “My Lord, I have word from the council.” The King switched his gaze from the glass pane that overlooked the mines to the man in green robes. “There has been a rumour from Faction Red. There are plans of a revolt. As suggested by the council, we seal off the Faction and send more guards into the mines to exorcise those who spread word.” “No.” His voice was carrying, “if the miners choose to spill blood once more, then let them.” The last revolt neared a decade ago. Over two-hundred fatalities and ...
Weekly Contest #123
“Dalton, he’s got you by your fuckin’ balls and he ain’t loosenin’ up!”It was an ugly reflection – no, just an ugly mirror.Yeah, you tell yourself that, you ugly sonofabitch.He changed his stance to something more powerful, something that said, look at me now and weep for my forgiveness.Then he tried something a little more forthcoming - something inviting, like a gingerbread house where you just want to tuck in and eat up, but there were more than just sweets and candy in this house.Yeah, behind those doors – behind that hard crust – there’...
Weekly Contest #111
The square room was of white walls, white canvas and white light.From each corner hid no shadow; not a mote of dust lingered, and not a sound was heard.A cryogenic bed was fixed in the middle of the room with a digital counter atop the glass frame.The last minute of the timer fell and as the numbers showed zero, a door on the far side of the room opened.The bed unlatched with a wheeze and a naked man sat upright.“Dr Fischer,” spoke a voice, “another year has passed. The procedure will be resumed.”“Did you destroy it?” he said out of pure ins...
Ms Jarvis came into Mawde’s Diner down here in Cut Off, Louisiana nearly every day, besides the holy one.She sported a lime-green overcoat, spotted with grease stains; the hem draping over her chubby thighs. She always carried a purse which was held together by sewn-on canvas binds, every so often reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out a strip of foul-smelling meat, before dropping it into her purse.She was a regular here at Mawde’s.Being a roadside diner, which operated at almost all hours, odd characters showed up at odder times, of...
Weekly Contest #109
Casey had learnt to take Benzodiazepines before the night’s work and painkillers when she was done, finish a cigarette between rounds and leave her necklaces at home. The johns – the clients – could get dangerous; they never stole, but when they were red hot, they’d grab hold of anything to choke you and watch you turn a shade darker. Most of the clients were lonely. Some were into different things that they couldn’t get away with doing to their wives or girlfriends. A client once asked Case...
Weekly Contest #108
Content Warning: violence, explicit languageDetective Marsden, followed by a nurse, walked into hospital ward twenty-two to meet Lee Baxter, the thirty-three-year-old who was shrivelled like an old man on his death bed; Baxter occupied his own bed, albeit not dying, yet hooked up to an IV drip which slowly replenished his vitality.“Mr Baxter?”His tired eyes looked up in response.“We have a detective Marsden here who would like to talk to you, something about the incident.”“Thank you, Miss Raymer,” the detective spoke in a thick, sombre voice...
Weekly Contest #107
Content warning: explicit language, violence. “You tell your brother to stop selling in Archway. You tell him to get all his men and move.” Wexley Tones, the man subject to a five-minute harangue was bound by ropes from arm to ankle, covered in bruises from Christmas to Easter. “You listen to what I say, Wexley, any funny business and I find that Connor is still selling in Arch – I promise you won’t be walking straight no more.” The words left the man who was losing whatever marg...
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