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Submitted to Contest #337
I fidget endlessly in the unforgiving hospital chair, fluorescent lights beaming down, as if to interrogate me. An older woman sits to my right, anxiously rubbing her bracelet in the same worn spot. Her eyes veer from left to right, assessing the generic pictures that hang on these bleak, sterile walls. In her hands, a crumpled flyer suggests carefully worded steps to take regarding terminal illnesses.Giving in to curiosity, I take a quick peek at the images she has been scanning for the last ten minutes. A father-and-son duo smile back at m...
Submitted to Contest #334
In a land far, far away…Dave was closing up shop at the “Catfé”, a coffee shop frequented by feline friends. He tugged at the bags beneath his eyes as he swept stray catnip from tables. An accidental glimpse into the glass tabletop revealed a cat he was still growing to know. With features that felt foreign and a tail he endlessly tripped over, he had yet to adjust to this new body of his, despite his six years being a cat.How much longer would he need to endure? How would he even escape this planet?These questions plagued him each day as he...
Shortlisted for Contest #333 ⭐️
“It’s burnt.”Of course it is. “It’s because you wait too long”, a reply laced with the tone that only a parent could have toward their child. I follow my father’s hands, worn with years of hard work, as they mix my bowl of bibimbap.“You eat like this. Now the rice will be crispy if you don’t wait too long”. Bibimbap — a Korean dish of rice and spicy mixed vegetables — is not only delicious, but occasionally served in a dolsot, or hot stone bowl. If you wait just long enough — but not too long — the rice at the bottom will have the perfect am...
Submitted to Contest #253
After being plagued with anxiety for years about who I would become and where I’d end up, I can confidently say I’ve finally made it. Everything is in place: I have a car, a stable job, a home, loving partner, and man’s best friend —my dog. So why is it that deep down, it doesn’t really feel like it?This is the third time this week that I’ve braced myself just to step foot into the building. I am a stellar employee and borderline workaholic, but that’s only if I muster up enough courage to leave my car. Something about the office lights has ...
Submitted to Contest #179
Trigger warning: Substance abuse, mental health, violence***She signed her name on the line for the fourth year in a row.Of course, in red ink.“Mom, you’re not supposed to write your name in red ink, remember?”After a long sigh, she swiveled my direction to ask if I really believed in such superstitious nonsense. For a woman who was paranoid out of her mind when it came to most things, she appeared unfazed by the cultural taboo she had just committed.“Well, I don’t want you to die…You should write in black ink instead,” I whisper under ...
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