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Weekly Contest #366
Home was warm, smelling of green tea with honey and ginger.Our Sunday morning family study was winding down. My husband, Nephets, closed his Bible as our three boys scattered, debating who got the last muffin while the dark sky outside promised a historic blizzard."Clear off the table, boys," I said, checking the cabinets. "I'm making a quick run to Midwest Fresh before the roads lock up. Just basic storm supplies—milk, bread, peanut butter.""Get the marshmallow cereal!" the oldest yelled."And Pop-Tarts!" the middle one added."I’m not stocki...
Weekly Contest #365
To fellow students, Davy was just a smart, quiet kid who hid inside an oversized hoodie, working on project research long before topic options had even been presented. Since high stress at home was a daily experience, studying how anxiety affects teens was naturally the chosen subject. Up front, Mr. Williams, a tired homeroom teacher, squeaked white chalk against the blackboard slate, writing down key points to help the upcoming graduates with their presentations.Davy sat up with clear posture and steady confidence. Attention was drawn to th...
Weekly Contest #356
The warmth of the state park cabin made it easy to forget the bitter winter waiting outside the frosted windows. My soon-to-be husband, Nephets, had chosen this rustic sanctuary for our wedding after I became completely overwhelmed trying to find a venue. While he was out in the main room stoking the fire and welcoming family, I was tucked away in the back.Just an hour ago, home had felt suffocatingly quiet. As my coworker-turned-best-friend, Allison, helped me pack up, she was uncharacteristically commanding, refusing to let me lift a singl...
Weekly Contest #352
The red eviction notice left on the door tasted like salt. It was sharp and slightly metallic. Behind me, the morning air was a heavy, suffocating gray that felt damp. There wasn’t much time left to pack until we’d hear the sheriff arriving. I turned away from the threshold with the lingering sting in my throat. The kids moved through the only home they’d ever known, and their footsteps sounded like purple thuds. Upon grabbing the first box, our former apartment looked as though it was being bleached out, replaced by the sapphire blink of th...
Weekly Contest #351
What should have been a normal Thursday dinner turned into a complaint session. The air was thick with spaghetti and teenage entitlement. Between bites, my three boys were griping about how their current track shoes were trashed; not having the latest sneakers was practically a social death sentence. I looked at their plates of food and healthy, unaware faces, trying to preach the usual sermon of gratitude, but my voice felt like a ghost; they weren’t hearing me, but instead waiting on their turns to express more dismay. After the tabl...
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