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Weekly Contest #379
There was a special sort of feeling that danced deep between Maisey’s ribs. When she was young, it was a rhythmic, passionate tango. Every step echoed through her body, swirling down to her gut, then up and around in time with the beating in her chest. With every passing year, the dance turned slow and refined, a waltz spinning elegant circles all the way up from her toes. The older Maisey got, the slower the dance became, and the harder it was to hear the melody behind it. Now, the song had gone silent. Sometimes, she could almost catch a s...
Weekly Contest #378
“It was a dark and stormy night–” “No.” “Oh, come on, Kay!” Kaylani shoved up off the pink shag rug and wagged her finger in Hana’s face. “You absolutely cannot start a story like that. It’s–Sofia, what’s something worse than cliché?” Sofia flipped idly to the next page of whatever man-bludgeoningly thick tome she was reading. “Hackneyed.” “What does that even mean?” Hana groaned, flopping back onto Kay’s bed. The blankets felt softer than she remembered, more vibrant, too. Actually, Kaylani’s whole bedroom was more vivid, more perfect. When...
Weekly Contest #352
Mila Hoffman never believed in ghosts. Not until Tauberun. Rumors said it was a lively place, once. The baker always had fresh bread ready in the mornings. The buttery scent of it drifted through town as the courier and milkman crossed paths delivering their goods. Children rode bicycles over rough cobblestones on their way to the schoolhouse, and the church bells tolled on the hour, keeping time for the town’s few hundred residents. That Tauberun died out seventy-five years ago. *** Wrendall was a vibrant city. Neon signs bathed the streets...
Weekly Contest #347
CW: Murder, suicide, death At sea, they say a man’s vow is as sturdy as the hull of his vessel, that his word must hold strong against the hostile tides. Silas had made just one promise in his six years aboard the Angel’s Wing: “I will not betray my Captain.” *** Waves hammered against the ship as thunder tore through the clouds. It was on this violent November night that a jagged rock pierced the hull of the Angel’s Wing, and Silas Harris pointed a pistol at Captain Rodrick’s chest. “Ya best hope the sea’s cursed you with the madness, bo...
Weekly Contest #342
CW: Murder Neon light flickers in the evening fog, the sign’s red glow blanketing the lone car in the Faraway Motel parking lot. Vacancy, it reads. The ‘No’ hasn’t made itself known since 1993, back when the Harolds rented the place out for their annual reunion. Before the murders. For three years, Toby Faraway has sat at the same desk, clicking the same pen, waiting for the phone to ring. It has, sure. Debt collectors. Scams. One confused grandma looking for one Tony Farley. Sometimes, it feels like Toby is one with his desk chair, like ...
Weekly Contest #251
If he never saw another rock again, he’d be flipping thrilled. “I found something strange on Google Maps and had to check it out!” Gray smiled at his phone and hoped he disguised how absolutely done he was with this trip. Someday soon, the footage would go out to his thousands of viewers, but right now he had no service, no Wi-Fi, and no feeling in his arm after hours recording his hike up the rugged mountain. At least it wasn’t the jungle. The last time he did one of his ‘spontaneous discovery’ videos, it took him two weeks to find the ri...
Weekly Contest #133
Stupid Gabe, stupid dirty house, stupid unfair punishments. Kade kicks a loose nail in the worn floorboards. He should be out with Lana at the Valentine’s Day dance, but his dumb brother just had to start another argument. It’s not like Gabe ever gets in trouble for his part in them, either. Why does mom only ever believe him? Is it because he’s younger? Because his face has that round cherubic quality? Whatever the reason, the rest of his family is out to dinner and Kade is stuck at home cleaning out the disgusting attic like a loser. “Ugh...
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