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Weekly Contest #299
I wouldn’t call myself a detective or a sleuth. I’m not as cerebral as Sherlock or as suave as Bond. However, this is my story of how one sign, a literal poster on a pole, led me to crack a case worth dying for at Mort’s Mortuary. The sign was a divine masterpiece of intrigue I couldn’t ignore. UNDERTAKER URGENTLY NEEDED Sales experience preferred. For the Scout’s mid-west fourth district bronze popcorn salesman of the year, I felt qualified. I mean, sales were sales, and as much as I loved my old bike, I had my license, but no whip to ...
Weekly Contest #298
Is it natural for your palms to sweat? My palms have never sweated, and yet they are slick as a greasy spoon. “It will be impossible to grip anything like this. Maybe I should turn back and go home.”My feet don’t turn back though; instead, they walk down the stadium’s concrete steps towards the field. Carrying me down the death trap, overriding my thoughts, and indulging my better instincts. Did someone a half century ago think that three-foot steps were a good idea? Were people in better shape, or was safety an afterthought?Each step sends ...
Weekly Contest #274
*This story explores the angst arising from political and social issues created in our current political climate.* “Let’s take another question from the audience. Yes, the young woman at the third microphone. Which candidate do you want to address?” “This question is for either. Hopefully, both will answer.” “That’s fine. That’s fine. Please go ahead.” “I would like to ask if either of you will stop using our plights as tools to get elected?” The bright white smile of the interchangeable news anchor fades. A hair comes out of pla...
Weekly Contest #269
The things of legends don’t feel mystical. Legends and myths are the jobs of bards and poets. To take the horrors of battle and romanticize them into stories for the masses. They make the putrid copper scent of death and the rotten taste of festering meat palatable as one drinks ale at an inn. Legends are stories crafted by the bard about actions from hands like mine. Calloused covered hands chose years of toil and work instead of chasing an impossible dream. My friends tested their metal, became pages or joined armies. They chased d...
Thunder claps as an ominous rumble quakes the earth, following the blinding flash that turned the night to day. “It’s never a beautiful day,” Ashen said. “When the quest is coming to an end, hopefully coming to an end, it is never a clear summer day. The sun is never shining down from the heavens as the hero completes their journey. It has to be the dead of night. When the mischievous and the devious roam the lands, while the lord weeps tears of fury as the deluge floods the land. It can never be a bright, sunny day. Never… Never….” ...
Weekly Contest #268
It’s so bizarre… So, so, so bizarre. When was the last time you accidentally dialed your own phone number? You’re playing on your phone and suddenly a robotic female voice is saying: Please enter your password. Then hit pound. It happens about once, maybe twice a week to me. Typically, when my phone takes that trip from the hand to the pocket. The last time I did it was actually pretty memorable because I was presenting quarterly reports and the magical butt fairy didn’t only dial, but also hit the speaker button. The last tim...
Weekly Contest #267
People hate doctors because they make you sit in a little white room, sipping on a cold spiced latte, knowing it will never taste the same again. The Doctor’s lips are moving, but my world has gone mute. Maybe it’s a lump or something in the bloodwork. Maybe a simple procedure turned anything but. Regardless, in a moment your life shatters, the reality you didn’t even know you were leaning on continuing no longer exists. Your life is flung from a cliff like a leaf from a tree, blowing aimlessly at the mercy of the wind as you try to figure o...
Weekly Contest #266
“Jake? Is that you Jake?” The weathered bartender of Kill Your Darlings, said through squinted eyes as he welcomed who he thought was his regular Jake Mathist, into the bar. “Onix. Onix Rock Harden, now my friend.” “I’ll get you a tall one. Maybe two,” “Sounds great,” Onix said, because it was the only thing to say. Onix didn’t know if he would like the coming stout beer. Once Jake, Onix, came in to have a draft of his favorite light beer only to unearth a new gluten intolerance. “Who writes allergies into a character?” Onix asked, ...
Weekly Contest #265
“Every… single… flight?” “That’s right ma’am, unfortunately every single flight has been grounded.” “That’s impossible,” I say with my wittiest retort. People think it’s easy to be on all the time, that when the moment comes, they will have a dramatic, memorable saying. Reality bites and unless you fall back into expletives, which I have used plenty today, then you typically use a mundane response. “But, it’s not possible. Look outside.” Outside the dozens of locked double doors, the sun is shining brightly, birds are filling the sk...
Weekly Contest #236
213243 Finally. I’ve learned better than to yell or curse out loud. The first few times people understand, the next dozen you get looks, after a few hundred you are an outcast, and the thousandth, well, at that point you’ve moved past the place of caring that people think you have leprosy. Only cursing the gods a few thousand times is praiseworthy, considering how many password tries it has taken to crack this ancient tomb described to me as: “state-of-the art… when they bought it.” Since the summer of my sophomore year, I’ve spent ...
Weekly Contest #218
My husband asked me not to write this. Our conversation started civil before devolving into a gritty symphony of divergence. He believes the review won’t make sense, is personal, and petty. My soul disagrees. To cleanse my conscious, I must forewarn anyone else who dines here. Believe it or not, I normally give positive reviews. When I finish a book, I leave a review. When I go to the dentist, I leave a review. When a product does what is supposed to, I leave a review. When an app asks me for a review, I hit ask me again later. I’m not a ...
Weekly Contest #199
Stumble. Mumble. Bumble. In that order or all at once, I’m not exactly sure. I stumbled over, over nothing but air from the surprise of locking eyes with the person I had been stealing glances of all night. I mumbled some sort of apology after I bumbled my drink, spilling its contents from both sides of the rim as I attempted to cover my shame in a sip. “I’m Alex.” “Pat,” I say stupidly as my evening’s fixation introduces themselves after watching my shenanigans as they walked over. Alex is cool, suave, mysterious, sexy,...
Weekly Contest #176
You could never finish your job here. That is why you have but a single year. Don’t dally or waste. Give haste. Sara could imagine the script, the curved persuasive letters, etched into her mind one night. When she woke, she was here in a book store. Sara had spent 364 days here and now that it was coming to an end, she wanted nothing more than this stay to go on forever. “The dust smells different here,” Sara said, feather duster lightly running along the rows of shelves. “It smells old, like knowledge. Like wisdom, adventure...
Weekly Contest #174
“I can’t believe that you made it. Girl. I mean, I just can’t.”“I know… I know, isn’t it amazing!!!” Is what Claire meant to say with a bounce as her childhood bestie, Gail, smothered her in a hug. Instead, Claire’s arms barely warped around her friend as she rocked with Gail. Awkwardly accepting the hug like she was playing dead in front of a bear. “Well, we’ll have to do something more. You don’t escape. I will be right back.”Gail weaved through the crowd, leaving Claire alone in a sea of doppelgangers a decade older than her graduati...
Weekly Contest #170
“I’ve got a plan.” The table groaned. This wasn’t the first time Clint had a plan. It wouldn’t be the last, but everyone sitting around that table exaggerated their distress at these words. Claire grimaced, Todd shook his head, Jeff and Jenifer both looked away while Amber threw her arms up. Everyone was upset except for Clint and Pat, their Dungeon Master. “What is the plan?” Pat said with a wicked grin. “Well-” “No…. Don’t say anything yet. Just stop,” Jennifer jumped in. “Don’t say a word.” “But… I-” “-Don’t. Not y...
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