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Weekly Contest #361
“So, when do you go back?”Mark was playing with the stem of his wine glass, glancing down at Milly in irritation as she crunched breadsticks into sand on the tablecloth. A frown furrowed his brow; the same two deep lines his mother also sported when she had something on her mind.“Work? Oh, eight days.”He glanced up. “Eight more? Jeez. Never known you to take this long.” Then he dropped his gaze once more, gently pushing Milly away from the table before starting to heap the crumbs together into a mound, making a snowplough from the sides of h...
Weekly Contest #327
The hairband dangled from the tip of my finger, fat and round as a garden worm. A sandy shade, it could be neatly disguised in a mass of ash-blonde hair. My hair is dark. Danny walked into the kitchen. “What’s that?” he asked, barely taking in it – or me – before flicking the switch of the kettle. “A hairband.” He glanced up, hands flat on the worktop. His fingers rested in flecks of sugar that dotted the surface, scattered like birdseed from the last cup of tea he’d made. “And?” He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not mine.” He frowned, lips ya...
Weekly Contest #326
Initially, I gave the front door a quick rattle. You could have mistaken it for the wind. A classic scare tactic, though I wasn’t trying to frighten him. Not then. I simply hoped it might prompt him to get up and open it – take a peek outside. And that was all I needed. An opportunity. It didn’t work, though I wasn’t too concerned. I’m known for my patience. Floating through eternity will do that to you. So, I continued to push against the door panel, daily, fluctuating my weight on and off, on and off, each time increasing the pressure unti...
Weekly Contest #317
She held his hand with what seemed like unnecessary force, giving it an occasional squeeze. “And this line is your heart line.” “Of course,” he said, unsure what that meant. She took her right index finger and traced it, languidly drawing a path from one side of his palm to another before swiftly crossing it through in a kiss. She paused and looked up, meeting his eye, then tickling the centre of his hand with the tip of her finger three times. It was a strange sensation. Both irritating and intimate at once. “Very interesting.” Her voice w...
Shortlisted for Contest #313 ⭐️
Will lifted the bread roll towards his mouth without cutting it. The plate was too far away, as usual, and he moved without care, as always.A trail of poppy seeds marked the path his hand took from porcelain to mouth, puncturing the surface of the white tablecloth like a blood splatter. He was marking his territory. Lording over everyone else. He owned the space. He could do as he liked.Of course, he’d simply think she was fussing. Reading too much into it. It’s only a few bloody seeds, Sophie. She looked up, and their eyes locked over the s...
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