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Weekly Contest #26
Lucy was about to commit blasphemy. Or something near enough to it in the eyes of her family, though she wasn't doing anything wrong. Somehow, she still couldn't divorce herself of the idea that she was doing something illegal.The trombone wasn't stolen. It wasn't the then twenty-year-old instrument she had started playing fifteen years ago, but for how dirty she felt standing in front of a pawn shop with it, it might as well have been.That trombone had belonged to her father, and he had started her on it as soon as possible. She was the fir...
Shortlisted for Contest #25 ⭐️
Winnie's list of New Year's Resolutions was a series of strikes, ranging from tight and controlled to desperate scribbling.Get more exercise. A thick, decisive line in black ink.There were too many people in the gym. The whole point of getting up so early in the morning was to avoid people at the gym. Instead, Winnie had apparently discovered the golden hour for the gym rats. It wasn't packed. She knew she could just as easily slide in next to these people, but there were more eyes than she'd been prepared to deal with.She gripped her gym ba...
Weekly Contest #24
"So, Sparrow. At last we meet." The blond woman behind the desk had her hands neatly folded, the picture of business elegance. It was difficult to tell that her business was secrets and murder. "I'm not trading clichés with you," Gwen retorted as she was pushed down into a chair opposite. She would rather she wasn't here at all. "This isn't good," Lucas whispered in her ear. "If I'm right, that's La Reine. And if it is her, you're probably dead." Gwen carefully didn't react to that information. Or, rather, she was beyond the point of caring ...
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