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Weekly Contest #280
The question hung in the room like a crooked photograph on the wall, its imbalance gnawing at the edges of comfort. She hadn’t meant to ask it. It had slipped out in the way truths sometimes did—clumsily, with all the grace of a bird flying into a closed window. Now it was out there, flapping awkwardly between them. She stared at the mirror as though it might take pity and answer for her, but the reflection only offered judgment: mascara smudged like ash, hair tousled into something between a warning sign and a flag of surrender, eyes ...
Weekly Contest #227
Gasp. The sharp gust of air felt bitter in his throat, the icicles that had practically grown on him shattering as his face contorted. Groan. He moved, every so slightly. The blood rushing back into his system. He was a different kind of cold, the kind where you feel so beyond numb that you begin spasming. He sat up in the snow, the movement alone requiring a large amount of energy. All around were sheets and sheets of white snow. It covered everything in his line of sight; trees, grass, rocks - hell, even the sun if that...
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