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Weekly Contest #79
“Strangely, the sea doesn’t get tedious to look at. Wave tracks converge and criss-cross in patterns that have never happened before and will never happen again.” Sebastian Junger, The Perfect Storm. The March rain has all but stopped, and my wipers intermittently push water across the windshield. A rainy night on a busy road, cars sometimes toss up sheets of water that sparkle beneath the streetlights I pull into the Applebee’s parking lot, pass the bright red, orange, and green neon sign and, because the dinner crowd has gone, I find a s...
Weekly Contest #78
Silas Lapham Cobb, Attorney-at-Law, sat behind his cluttered desk, leaning back in a wooden swivel chair, snoring softly. A large white cat with one ragged ear lay curled on his lap, its purrs nearly matching the snores. A ceiling fan turned languidly overhead, uselessly pushing hot August air from one side of the office to the other. The clock on the wall, ticking in eerie accord with the snores and purrs, showed nearly three o'clock. The wall calendar showed 1891. When the minute hand reached 12, the clock chimed, cutting the silence like ...
Weekly Contest #62
Checkmate 1 “There’s no easy way to put this, so I’ll just say it. This is the end.” Angelo spoke so matter-of-factly that his partner nearly missed his meaning. “What are you talking about?” Lynne stared across his paper-strewn desk. “The end of what?” “Us,” he said. “You, me, all of it.” He sighed. “It’s been a good run, we’ve had some good times, made some good money, but I want to do something else. I’m liquidating the business, moving out and moving on.” She stared, eyes sharp, mouth slightly open. One hand brushed some stray blon...
Weekly Contest #59
1 Bill Hastings, on his usual lunch-hour bike ride, marveled at the blue autumnal sky, enjoyed the temperature in the low 70s, the soft breeze and clear air, leaves just turning from green to yellow. He’s been blessed with a good life, he thought, a university professor, working in the world of ideas, mostly master of his own schedule. In good health. A bit unlucky in love, but maybe that was for the best; he reported to no one at home, kept his own course and counsel. The bike route wound through an old downtown cemetery, an interlude he ...
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