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Submitted to Contest #339
Dustin wandered around his childhood neighborhood and local shopping centers, hands in his pockets and a black beanie on his head. It was cold out, down in the thirties, and Dustin wasn't fully prepared. Although he’d grown up there, he hadn't remembered the cold being so intense, so brutal. Then he recalled his own mother saying that she never minded the cold as a kid, either, and sighed a white plume of mist into the air.Down by the old mall, which was now a parking structure for the new mall, a gargantuan thing with four levels and a holo...
Submitted to Contest #338
“Okay, honey, go look at the books, but stay where I can see you,” Sam's mother said before kissing him on the forehead and ruffling up his dark and wavy hair, something he didn’t like but didn’t hate, either. It was summertime, there was no school, and they were yard-sale hopping with grandma; for a skinny kid in the sixth grade, there weren’t too many better days than that.As kids his age went, Sam was reasonably normal with a propensity toward the geeky, if that makes sense. While he enjoyed bikes and bugs and girls and super heroes as mu...
Submitted to Contest #334
“All right, you two, off you go,” said Rob, captain of the small craft that had brought the middle-aged couple to the island. They stood hand-in-hand on a long wooden dock that stretched all the way to the white sands of a beautiful beach. “Have a fantastic weekend.” Rob held up a walkie-talkie from the deck and shook it back and forth. “Remember, this is your lifeline. You need anything, anything at all, you use it. Okay?” Carl, a moderately overweight accountant dressed in tan slacks and a red plaid button-down, held up his radio and smile...
Submitted to Contest #333
“It’s you though, Sarah! Something is really wrong, here. Every time I express a concern I’m the enemy.” His voice was brash.“Elliot. You're being dramatic. You always do this, turn nothing into something.” She clipped on holiday earrings too large for her face. “Hurry up, honey. We are going to be late. You know how my parents are about Christmas. I’m dressed and ready to go!”“See? You're more concerned with how we’ll look if we’re late than with fixing us!”“Elliot, there's nothing wrong. You're imagining things again.” Warning in her eyes....
Submitted to Contest #332
Rodney was a fat kid. There was really no nice way to say it. And to make matters worse, he had orange hair and freckles. And even more diabolical, his mother chose his outfits, so he usually looked like he was on safari. Or something. His mother didn’t say much, but his father sat on him pretty hard about his size. The hell you trying to do, be the first twelve-year-old kid in two time zones? That was one of his favorites. Honestly, Rodney wasn't eventhat fat. He was big for his age, yes, but it wasn't out of control. No, the truth was, he ...
Submitted to Contest #331
“No! I’m telling you, Martin, it’s right there, in the middle of the ice!”Martin studied Brett, who was normally calm and collected but was now full of fire and talking nonsense at a very high pitch. “What you're telling me is insane, man. It makes zero sense.”“I’m not saying it makes sense, Martin, I’m saying I saw the fucking thing—the whole place—with my own eyes!” He took a breath, trying to calm himself. “You gotta hear me out, brother.”Martin stared back at Brett, debating whether to give up or to give in; ultimately, he decided on the...
Submitted to Contest #330
“Might I change the channel, young man?” Howard asked.The young man, a Hispanic prisoner who went by Elf, considered this for a moment, staring back at the elderly inmate, at his overly-big smile that showcased way too many big and yellow teeth, at his dark and beady eyes that seemed to project both the wisdom of years and monstrous intent. Elf scratched his chin while he pondered. “To what?”The old man’s smile grew bigger, shone even more yellowed teeth. “Oh, I don’t care, really, as long as it isn't this.” They had been watching Dan on the...
Submitted to Contest #329
Wendy, a wayward and troubled dead girl, felt stuck in her very existence, trapped inside a prison she had built for herself using materials such as doubt, fear, and anxiety. On this particular day, we find her in an abandoned home, sitting on an old and dusty bathroom counter, speaking into the mirror. She often did this, pretending she was talking to a reporter who had found her and could see her. “This is nothing like I thought it’d be. I just exist. I suppose it’s kind of poetic, in a way—goth girl Wendy turned ghost. But I can't even sc...
Submitted to Contest #328
"It has taken me so very long to find you, dear," Lisa heard a man's voice say. She looked up from the blandly-colored front desk of a doctor's office in Ashersville to see a thin and aged white gentleman dressed all in black, from his brimmed hat to his overcoat, and down to his slacks and shiny shoes. Black. A navy blue pinstriped vest nestled underneath in the sea of shadow for contrast."I'm sorry? Do you have an appointment?" she asked the man, who simply smiled at her and shook his head."No, ma'am, I'm here on a separate matter entirely...
Submitted to Contest #327
“Do you remember when we were kids, Ashley told us the cat was stuck in the big tree out front?” Pam asked Brian of their younger sister. Now in their early forties, Ashley was still not done with her thirties and her marriage was on the rocks. Again.Each October the three siblings met at a different restaurant in Brock, the beautiful mountain town they’d grown up in together. And each year, it was the same thing: Ashley spewed her numerous troubles while Pam did her best not to lose her mind and Brian handled it all just fine and dandy, whi...
Submitted to Contest #326
Louise stood in the grocery store line, mundane thoughts of the work day now behind her floating around in her head like kaleidoscope bursts of subdued color. She studied herself in a hand mirror someone had abandoned in front of a tabloid magazine at the last moment. At sixty, she could pass for forty-six easy if it weren’t for the dark patches under her eyes, her slightly pock-marked and far-too-pale skin, and the downturns at the corners of her eyes and mouth that hadn't manifested until after Jeff died, two years earlier. She’d been colo...
Submitted to Contest #325
CW: Drug use and violence Keith lit a cigarette and snapped the Zippo’s lid closed with a clink. He returned the lighter to the pocket of his worn blue jeans as he puff-started the smoke. It was dreary and damp out, but Keith didn’t mind. In the crisp air of an October day, underneath a white sky, he found that people tended to be more trusting, happier. Everyone claimed they enjoyed the sunshine more but Keith often wondered if the average person actually knew what they liked, or why.He had parked his car, a jet-black old Dodge with too muc...
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