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Weekly Contest #220
“Now, little Diz, I think we're set, but can you think of anything else your momma would like to sink her fangs into when she’s done giving birth?”Saying this, the elderly mouse spider, Gra’ma Occatoria, tip-tapped eight steps back on spindly legs, revealing the feast she’d laid out on a platform made of hundreds of layers of silk. In the banquet-hall, the lowermost chamber attached to the central shaft of the burrow, which was illuminated by fireflies and glowworms secured to the webbing on the walls, the young spiderling with the bright re...
Weekly Contest #219
TW Suggestion of domestic violence, general violence, and child abuse. May cause offense.In the darkness of oblivion, now and as forever, swathes and waves of misery wash over me.Disembodied, immutable, adrift, I should be at peace after all of this time on my own, but the sounds of suffering and pain continue to assault me, as they have done since I was delivered, from one prison to another, tethered by the constraints of many others.Breathless, urgent cries like the bleating of sheep being slaughtered.High-pitched, keening wails like those...
Weekly Contest #216
The shorts and t-shirt clad exercisers of various shapes and fitness levels, sipping their beverages while panting, stretching, beads of sweat on their foreheads drying in the cool evening air, dark patches on their backs and stomachs glaring like mournful, weeping eyes, making you feel guilty about unused gym membership that's about to expire.The tap-tap-tapping keyboard pounders, lost in worlds of their own creation, focused, on the words appearing on their screens, working or creating, for themselves or others, lidded containers over-seei...
Weekly Contest #214
To you, who is reading this, wherever you are, it saddens me to say this will be the last of my personal scribings, which you have presumably been perusing for some time, possibly out of curiosity for a civilisation lost, as I assume it must be, following the events of this eve. I am writing these words by candlelight, wrapped in my wolf hide cloak, attempting to fend off the cold and unbearable darkness that has descended on my mother’s Hall and lands, not to mention the world, following the death of the sun.Yes. That is what I wrote.&...
Weekly Contest #213
For more years than he cared to remember, Stanley Easterbrook had been a doctor in the village of Newhall, driving every day through rain, mist, blinding sunshine or bone-chilling snow along back roads lined by wild privet hedges to the main street that led to his clinic. He’d served as GP for the small parish town for thirty-seven years and he knew the area inside out, as well as the people who lived there. To him, this was a good thing, as he believed it made him efficient at his job. He knew his patients’ ailments and their maladies...
Weekly Contest #212
Hey. Testing testing. If you get this can you reply and tell me what time it is? -19.45Hi. Sorry, who is this, I don’t have your number saved? It’s 6.45. Your message is time-stamped 7.45, your phone time’s wrong. -18.45Holy shit.No way.I don’t believe this actually works. Sorry, just to be sure, is this Dave?-19.46Yeah, it’s Dave, who’s this?-18.46My phone time’s not wrong. It’s 7.45. This is so weird, your messages are popping into the chat up before mine, chronologically.I have to keep scrolling back up ...
Weekly Contest #211
TW: Suggestion of child abduction/murder.“Darling, I’m home! Sorry, I took so long. I picked up some veal steaks for dinner and had a wander around that flea market in town. You’ll never guess what I found…”Sitting in an armchair, close to the fire, working on a blanket she was crocheting for her granddaughter’s pending new arrival, Bethany Peace sighed, dropping her needles into her lap as her husband’s breathless words raced down the hall.“Let me guess, dear,” she called back, removing her spectacles and pinching her nose. “Something musty...
Weekly Contest #210
ANGELA“Cocoa! Warm not scalding! With pink marshmallows. And use a mug this time! I don’t need to lose any more porcelain by knocking it off the table in the middle of the night. Use your brain, for fuck’s sake.”“Yes, Muriel,” said Angela, nodding as she tucked the hummingbird-motif duvet around the octogenarian’s neck. “I’ll be right back, you just get comfy and listen to Barry.”“‘Listen to Barry’,” the old woman with the silver hair scoffed, shuffling under the covers as if in criticism of the way she’d been positioned. “Why do I have to l...
Weekly Contest #209
Commute 5280 was going badly. Apart from the usual Monday morning traffic, bad weather, poor visibility and an announcement on the radio of an incident ahead causing delays, I’d had a run-in with an obnoxious driver, one that rattled me so much I’d been forced to pull over to catch my breath, at a badly maintained service station that nevertheless offered an oasis of calm. It was still pre 8-am when I pushed my way into the shop, leaving the rain for the brightly lit, muzak-droning interior, one I was far too familiar with after years a...
Weekly Contest #208
TW: Mental Health/Suggestion of Self HarmMy rainbows and unicorns are broken.Torn asunder, whipped and beaten, drowned by dread. The coloured bands of the polychromatic arcs that once formed a ceiling across the land brutally cleaved apart, blackened and cast far and wide. The pristine white hair of my precious, horned family scorched, seared and branded by evil, welts on their backs, chains on their hooves, misery their only companion. And I, the King of the Unicorns, the Vassal of Variegation Valley, the Master of this mou...
Winner of Weekly Contest #207 🏆
To: Buck TuckerFrom: Speed Fate Team Date: 19th July, 2023, 12:47Subject: Your Speed Fate InputHi Buck! Thanks for taking part in the recent Speed Fate speed dating event and submitting your feedback! We hope you enjoyed the evening! Please find below a copy of the comments you left for each of your dates. You will receive feedback submitted about you in a separate mail. Should any of those you said “Yes!” to also say “Yes!” to you, we will forward each of you a copy of your contact information so you can get in touch.The very best of l...
Weekly Contest #205
There were wolves on the train from Kildare to Kilkenny and the noise of them was driving me mad. They weren’t real wolves, of course. Real wolves would not have been as obnoxious, or as drunk, or as stupid. No, these were humans in werewolf masks and gloves, six of them in total, dressed up for some Halloween party or other, and judging by their boisterousness and how intimidating they were, they’d been ‘getting in the mood’ for quite some time.Thankfully, for now, they were halfway down the carriage and weren’t bothering me, other than wit...
Weekly Contest #204
He arrived in the town of Bewilderness on a weary, white mustang with bruised hooves. Dusty trousers, torn shirt, battered Stetson. Stubble that was more days old than he knew. Sunburnt face tired and drawn, throat coarse as gravel, bags under eyes from not sleeping. For many more days than he knew.He’d travelled a great distance, through an endless expanse of sandy nothingness, his faithful steed carrying him on bent shoes. He didn’t know where he’d come from or where he’d return, he only knew he was here, now, in this washed-out town of ra...
Weekly Contest #203
There were Shadow Skulls everywhere, pouring into the Hall through every door and window, a seemingly endless amount, cloaks flapping, blades slashing as they charged at the Champion, determined to keep him from his love. Van was close to the tower in which the object of this final quest awaited, but having fought his way through horde after horde of the Undead, exhausted his supplies, given everything he had, he knew he wasn’t going to make it. Not unless he used the Atomic Spirit, the weapon he’d ventured into a secr...
Weekly Contest #202
Out of the depths of rancid, crocodile-infested bayou waters rose a hand, then an arm, then a body, a hooded head breaking the surface, without so much as a whimper. Effortlessly, like a ripple on the lake, the revived-again killer propelled himself towards the bank, through charred debris and greasy oil slicks, the remains of a motorboat, the aftermath of an explosion, the culmination of a massacre that had almost seen him finally end the story. But the bitch had prevailed. As he drew closer to the bank, as the waters grew shallow...
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