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Submitted to Contest #43
There was no use in pretending anymore; that day had come, that awful day of reckoning that Lamont Sesame-Bagelton and all of the other bagels in the Hollandanse family kitchen had feared for so very long, the kind of fear that is fixed in the imagination and creeps into the visions of sleep, changing sweeping spectacles of rainbow-capped cotton-candy tree orchards into hideous sights filled with darkness and flashes of insidious green flame, nightmares of the sixth degree, nay, of the seventh degree. Lamont gazed down into the giant double ...
Submitted to Contest #42
The boat skimmed the jade river as it past by the brown-red hazy web of tree branches in an autumn forest. I ran my hand across that jade river; it was icy as the grave, cool and dominating. I looked back up at my Olivet against the pink and white-striped sail. She smiled at me, her hand keeping her large white headscarf in place over her luminous hair.“Well,” I said to her, “What a day, what a day! The water is a touch too cold for swimming, but hopefully the current will be kind and we’ll be in Brasel by lunchtime for the picnic.”“Oh, I wo...
Submitted to Contest #41
It was all very distressing.“But lobsters just don’t do such things!” said Wystan’s live-in mother Mum Olga, “It’s unnatural!”The lobster was firm upon the point however: he was determined to become a Dominican, just like his personal hero St. Thomas Aquinas. At first, Wystan and Mum Olga thought that their lobster Pudges was simply ill and took him to the veterinarian.“What is it, doctor?” Mum Olga said between sniffles, “A cold? Measles? Whooping cough?”“I’m afraid not,” said the doctor, “Rather extraordinary; nothing quite compares. It to...
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