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Weekly Contest #374
Buffalo, New York - 1912 In the flickering candlelight, Mable Eaton’s fork shook as she shuffled food around her plate, clearly feigning eating. She was nervous; Virginia could tell. Virginia Warren could always tell when one of her girls was unsettled. “Will,” Robert moaned, continuing his laborious campaign. “If the strike won’t end, all of Buffalo will grind to a halt.” William Tompkins, heir to the automotive dynasty his daddy left him, and a notorious lush, nodded along as Robert continued to lecture. Around the table, forks delicately...
Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #373 ⭐️
CW: End of life/hospice care “Keep them curtains shut,” I holler as I snatch that boy's hand away from the curtain for the tenth time tonight. Colton clicks his teeth at me, or he tries to. One’s been missing since his mama burned up dinner last week and it wiggled out on a piece of charred biscuit. He goes back to driving his toy cars through the dusty carpet. Ain’t dirty. Elaine keeps the place real clean ever since she moved back in with me, but it's old. Needs replacing. I stare at the yellow curtains, feeling the sluggish ticker in my ...
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