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Weekly Contest #370
A new heart brought new possibilities; some might even dare to call it a new beginning. Gerald never envisioned himself as a sailor out at sea, a baker, or most of all a father. None of these were options he considered before thirty years ago.Back then, he was ready to die. He spent months accepting it—the disease that was eating at his body. His wife, Linora, prepared recipes she found online that claimed to work wonders. Every night, she filled his glass to the brim with purified water and carried his colorfully organized pills up to their...
Weekly Contest #349
Today is April 31.Only two days have passed, yet it feels like an eternity.If I had known this was how it would end, I never would have held the elevator door open for Lindsey. Now, her fate is in the hands of an unknown evil. It’s all my fault.There were eight of us piled into this elevator only 48 hours ago—now there are six. Our numbers are dwindling. Who knows how many of us will be left?“Someone has to push a button,” whimpers Claudia, a mother holding her young boy close.“My poor baby is going to starve to death if we don’t do somethin...
Weekly Contest #348
I lost myself somewhere along the way. Along the path of wildly chasing after a figment of my mother’s imagination. My body was changing, my mind bending to the will of others, I didn’t know what I wanted—as so many of us still do not know.I was young, still am, hopefully. But you know, everyone is young in the eyes of someone older, regardless of how old you truly are. I did not know any better, and I likely still do not.Am I wasting away at this desk job? Suppressing my desire to write, to play, to be free? There is a child deep down withi...
Weekly Contest #345
I have a suitcase.It is a trash bag.It cradles my life in the stretch of its plastic.Since it does not look like much, it insinuates to others that I have nothing of importance.However, everything in this disposable bag means something—at least to me.I tote this bag around from house to house. I have never once fully emptied the bag before moving to a different house.I might take one item out, only to place it back within a week. I am afraid to remove all the items at once; afraid for my new family to see the minor things that are so major t...
Weekly Contest #341
Autumn was seeking refuge from her reflection. She struggled to accept those almond eyes carved by the same hands that bruised her. Her shoulders quivered as she traced over her lips, carefully, like a child afraid to color outside the lines.Faint traces of her mother speckled her face, each figurative freckle a reminder of the memories they once shared. A tightness seized her chest as she cursed the woman whose presence she could never erase. This half of her, imbued with the essence of her mother, was forever a stain.It had been only a yea...
Weekly Contest #339
What have I done?Hands trembling, Clarice made her best attempt at gingerly placing her fork on the table. She scanned the room.Do they know?All it took was one bite to realize that something was amiss. Her heart pounded in her chest, clashing with the sounds of cutlery against porcelain plates. Air swirled with the scent of buttery sweet potatoes topped with marshmallow goodness—just like the ones mom used to make.She had forgotten why she was here and instead allowed herself to get caught up in make-believe plans. She thought she could sta...
Weekly 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...
Weekly 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...
Weekly 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 ...
Weekly 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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