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Weekly Contest #363
The heavy crunch of a foot crushing the forest undergrowth was all she heard. Besides, of course, the rapid thudding of her own heart beneath her ribcage and the rapid breaths that fogged the air around her. It was dusk. Clouds stripped the light from the sky above the skeletal forest canopy and empty branches nicked her thin cheeks even as she tried to dodge them. How long had she been running? She did not know. The only thing she knew was that it was essential she didn’t stop. They were behind her. She could almost feel their hot, rank br...
The engine of a Lexus came to a halt in its garage, though the driver did not hear it. He hadn’t heard anything for about forty minutes, actually. Not the warm purr of the engine start, not the squealing of the tires as he left his previous destination, and not the honks that followed him on the highway as he drifted between lanes, lucky to be alive and ticket-free. Outside his garage, the sun beamed through fluffy gray clouds that had begun to gather in the east, signalling a summer storm might soon break the pulverizing humidity that held ...
Weekly Contest #362
A gentle melody echoed down a stone hall whose frigidity came not from the lack of sun but rather from the dispassionate gray rock that ensconced dim, sickly lights which seemed to pull whatever heat there was away from the air itself. The whistling came from familiar lips, and was soon accompanied by an arrhythmic tapping; a baton against the stone. If Javier was correct, the melody belonged to a hit from the 2000s, though he couldn’t put his finger on which one, exactly. Memories from those days seemed to be whirling around his head at lig...
Weekly Contest #327
CW: Mental health, suicide What does it mean to be happy by yourself? Daniel asked himself this question as he poured a tall Guinness out of a bottle in his studio apartment. Feeble sunlight penetrated the indigo darkness through Venetian blinds in thin, slanted rays. They illuminated an unmade bed that was the sore blight in an otherwise organized place. The dining table was clear, the bookshelf organized. The closet was neat and arranged by color. Yet anyone who knew Daniel would not find this surprising. In times of great distress, Daniel...
Weekly Contest #326
The gloom that had descended on Storrow, Washington was one of a strange nature. It was late October, and while the citizens of the small township were used to dreary weather–the constant mist of cold, peppery rain and the like, they weren’t accustomed to several days in a row of deep, impenetrable fog. More than that, there was a sentiment around the quiet streets that whispered its way from house to house as though carried by the chilling breeze snaking its way through leafless trees: something was coming. Kayla Driscoll pursed her lips e...
Weekly Contest #324
It was hard to pinpoint exactly what about Billy made Sarah Bedingfield fall so quickly in love with him. They shared shy glances in school. At lunch, Billy purposely sat so that he could always have a clear line of sight on Sarah’s face, even sitting askew from the rest of his friends if need be. Under the broiling yellow sun of a North Carolina spring, the two were finally pushed together by their respective friend groups. A date was made–a night at a jazz concert in the big city. The forty minute drive to the theater was spent in great te...
Weekly Contest #323
Patricia hadn’t been sure about her boyfriend for some time. She’d been with him for a while, and they had not experienced any major issues. Well, that’s not entirely true. Two months in, Patricia began to wonder why Stas Petrov only met her once the sun had gone down, why his skin made her gasp from its frigidity, and why he ate so sparingly when they went out for dinner–not just sparingly; he’d eat exclusively rare meats. A confrontation had to be made, so one night, standing in Central Park, Patricia asked Stas if it was something about h...
Weekly Contest #322
All his life, David Larson had known he was going to be Great. Great with a capital G. Ambition seized his heart, throttled his mind, and sent sparks of electricity through his fingers. He worked a respectable job. He made a good living. However, in the back of his mind there was always that all-consuming idea: do things that make the whole world applaud for you. He envisioned it every night as he stayed at his parents’ house. David saw himself on stage, he saw the microphone in his hand. More than that, he saw careless beauty on his face, t...
Alexandra’s eyes did not pass over the trophy that stood imperiously upon an altar several rows into the crowd. Nor did her ears flinch at the unearthly din of the crowd that roared as she walked through the tunnel. Cameras flashed, but her eyes remained steadfast. To her, the trophy meant nothing. What was it that made it so hallowed in the eyes of others? Sterling silver, an oversized chalice fit for a giant, emblazoned with words merely ascribing it to a certain championship. Was it not all interchangeable? Had it not been for ceremony, f...
Weekly Contest #321
“Hey, is this seat taken?” The voice came out of nowhere, cutting through the din of an otherwise hectic cafeteria. The subject to whom that voice had directed its line jumped in her seat. She looked up to see a tall boy with a slightly round face with brown skin, curly black hair, and soft, easy brown eyes. He looked athletic in a black sweat-suit. Her eyes widened. She stammered, “W-what did you say?” The boy smiled, revealing dimples and white teeth. “I just asked if this seat was taken. No worries, though; I can find somewhere else–” ...
“Hello.” “Good day, sir.” “How are you doing?” “T’wouldn’t be a day without the sun rising in the east, and I wouldn’t be Alicia without being well.” “Haha. Well, I hope you’re doing well for real, and not just making it up so I feel better.” “I promise you, sir, I’m doing well.” “Can we dispense with the ‘sir’ stuff? It’s been… God, it’s been years; I wish you would just call me Marcus.” “…” “Okay, okay, you can call me ‘sir!’ Jesus.” “I don’t see what he has to do with this, but thank you, sir.” “You never asked me how I’m doing?...
Weekly Contest #320
Sepia-hued sunlight filtered through the stubborn chartreuse leaves still clinging to dry bark. Two brothers walked along a well-trod path, the younger crunching pinecones underfoot and the other trying to load up the hiking trail app on his phone. The younger brother tripped over a gnarled root that poked defiantly out of the ground.“Jeez! Watch it, Will,” said the older brother as Will clung onto his sweatshirt for stability.Sheepishly, Will replied, “Sorry, sorry… are we almost there yet?”“What are you talking about, we just started!”“Oh…...
Weekly Contest #319
[TW: Drugging] I do not know the greater curse: my paralysis or my muteness. I stand every day in the same spot, watching… watching helplessly from the darkness. The sun lengthens shadows around the living room, casting dusty yellow and orange light through the dense leaves that shelter us from a view of the street. The trees… they loom outside and I wonder if they can sense what happens within this house, the terrible things to which I am privy. I wish desperately to talk with them, to reach out… to touch one of their branches. I wonder wh...
Weekly Contest #225
On my life I swore to do this, and on my life shall it be done… no matter the cost. My butler came into my chamber today. “You have not eaten in three days, sir,” said he with a trace of British pompousness behind his lackluster concern, “and I can see the jug of water just filled yesterday is gathering dust. The only change in its liquid level seems to be of evaporation.” “I’m fine, David,” I replied crossly. My left hand was gracefully tracing the outlines of a familiar shape on the canvas before me. My other hand was ...
Weekly Contest #224
The orange and purple of the faintest glimpse of twilight had only just begun to creep over the eastern sky outside my window when I awoke. Truly, a magical thing. It’s as though God, the great painter of the world, has made a yellowish brushstroke just at the flat plain at the edge of the world, blending it in with the inky blackness of the pure night sky with a single masterful swipe. You’d think I was weird, of course, if I told you that I awoke this early of my own volition, on Sunday of all days. In fact, I set my alarm this earl...
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