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Weekly Contest #271
The trees leaned towards each other to the point of weaving together into one black canvas. Moonlight could only pierce through the leaves here and there. That wasn’t enough to see a path underfoot—if there was one at all. His feet drowned in crunchy piles of what had already fallen. This year, as it seemed, the trees turned yellow earlier than usual – autumn wind did not chill his skin yet. In fact, it felt like the air itself froze into an unmoving veil.Kelsie strained his ears for an umpteenth time, hoping to hear at least a cricket somew...
Weekly Contest #267
Drops of condensation rolled down the glass, and Edith felt as if in this stuffy basement she herself would soon turn into steam and run down the wall somewhere in the corner, between the blaring speakers and the straining air conditioner. After all, the "Old Barrel" lived up to its name with its arched vaults - one could hide somewhere in the shadow and hope that at least there they would be able to get rid of the smell of alcohol and burnt oil coming from the kitchen.The hands of the clock have long since passed half past ten. At such a ti...
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