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Weekly Contest #354
CW: misogyny, stalking, femicide Up-down. Up-down. The man’s knee was trembling, shivering as if to a high up-beat. With his worn-out sneakers and his green hoodie, the guy in front of officer Mile couldn’t be older than twenty. His jet-black hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead, his eyes not darting around the room, as most one’s do, but instead fixed on an imaginary point somewhere in the corner of the small office. Maybe he was looking at the huge black spider that made it into the office a few days ago and that officer Mile just cou...
Weekly Contest #353
„The Rain Man is coming.“ My grandma’s finger desperately clamp around my wrists, her rough hands trembling with the last strength she has left. Her eyes dart feverishly arond the small hospital room, her head rocking in small, frantic motions. „Beware of the Rain Man.“ Only when her eyes close and her body goes still, her hands slipping from my arms, do I understand that these were her last words.It takes me three days to find out what she meant. After the last two, which I desperately needed off from work, being back at my place in the lab...
Weekly Contest #352
Frozen, I muster Mason’s face, its lower half hidden behind a thick layer of lead, where his helmet intended to protect his dear life. Only that this helmet has just terribly failed. „Darren, what happened?“, the others‘ voices call, but my gaze stays locked on Maosn’s beauty, now gone to eternity. Still I remember the day we first shook hands in combat, one of the last lessons of our ultimate year. Me being a small lonely boy never ready to dive into a fight, but there he was: Pretty Mason, offering me his hand as if asking me to dance not...
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