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Weekly Contest #355
The air in the room was heavy with the scent of lilies and the collective weight of things left unsaid. Most of the guests wore black, a uniform of mourning that felt as hollow as the speeches being given and the space left empty at the end of the table.Among them sat a young girl who cared very little for tradition; she was currently waging a private war with a collar of itchy lace. The dress was stiff and drab. Everyone wore black, she had been told, but she hated the dark hue and wanted to wear purple, her favorite colour. It was her fath...
Weekly Contest #353
This story contains reference to sexual violence and physical violence. The blood soaked deep into the dusty ground, turning the pale tan to a dark, rich burnt umber. I left a trail of drops as I walked across the dusty road, following the sun, my fingertips dripping—drip, drip, drip.I didn't hurt anymore; the pain was a memory that faded when his heart stopped beating. My shoulder would be okay in time. He would not. I tore a strip of cloth from my shirt and wrapped it tightly around the wound, the slice like a piece of fruit—a mango—the in...
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