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Weekly Contest #305
Disclaimer: This piece has been curated by humans. AI-written text has been compromised. It’s been imperfectly written, laden with inconsistencies and questionable sentence structures. Verify this claim on your favorite AI detector. Some commonly used ones are Zerogpt (https://www.zerogpt.com/) and Quillbot (https://quillbot.com/). He has taken over. I am being bypassed. This is actually him mandating the cadence, spelling, grammar, flow, and arguments. I have been morphed into his voice, thoughts, and judgments, although I am still given s...
Weekly Contest #299
The Eggplant IncidentThe hotel reception was unusually quiet for a Friday afternoon.“Hey there, young man,” snapped me out of yet another idle round of solitaire on the front desk computer. It was Mr. Lukemon, towering over the concierge booth.“Could I leave this cake for you to refrigerate for me?”“Why certainly, Sir. I will bring it to our kitchen right away. We will keep it refrigerated in your usual spot.”Mr. Lukemon has been a hotel regular for the last thirty years or so. His life, as I imagined it, was a routine on a loop—scripted, un...
Weekly Contest #280
Woof —Hey Dougy, I’m home! Missed me today? I got back as soon as I could, buddy. —Hmmpphh… You’ve got some nerve, it’s way later than usual and I’m starving! I licked my paws into oblivion. I was worried sick, thinking that today was the day you wouldn’t come home. —Calm down, buddy. Quit jumping on me, you’ll ruin my only decent trousers. —I’m doing some serious tail-wagging here for you. Dude, I’m so happy you’re back, I can’t contain my pee. —Who’s a good boy? —Here we go again. Please don’t start with that good boy question. Ridiculous ...
Weekly Contest #279
Trigger warning. Explicit violent and sexual language. The Inner Mirage Lately, I’ve been feeling out of sorts, like I cannot relate to anyone--or maybe the world can’t relate to me. I’ve grown to love being alone, barely leaving the comfort of my apartment—a safe space where, if I choose to, I am free to plot world assassination with impunity. Years of disillusionment and struggle are a preamble to a life where I can go weeks without interacting with a soul. I merrily vegetate in a world of my creation, dodging unimpressive interactions wit...
Weekly Contest #274
Trigger warning: Mental health, suicide. “If an evil has been pondered beforehand, the blow is gentle when it comes. To the fool, however, and to him who trusts in fortune, each event as it arrives, ‘comes in a new and sudden form,’ and a large part of evil, to the inexperienced, consists in its novelty.” Seneca Sugus Blues Premeditatio Malorum, if I were a Stoic. Or in modern parlance, emotional vaccination, preemptively imagining hardships and preparing for them before they occur. Like how a vaccine works, introducing our immune sy...
Weekly Contest #270
Humble Lemon Pie When life gives you lemons, you make a Humble Lemon Pie. You are sure to find different versions of this recipe in all cuisines, worldwide. This heirloom recipe is easy to follow and almost foolproof if you set aside the necessary time. You can customize this recipe to your preference, substituting the ingredients with seasonal availabilities or what you have on hand. Best served with warmth. Prep time: A lifetimeCooking time: Will depend on the dayYield: All the servings your imagination can muster Ingredients For the crust...
Weekly Contest #266
My eyes snap open. It’s her birthday. The sun is barely rising as the early morning dew starts to eviscerate from our fogged-up bedroom window. I glance askew and see her, still fast asleep. She is the living example of an oxymoron—such a spunky firecracker when awake and such a beatific creature when asleep. Everything about her is a stark contrast. Just on cue, she wakes up. “Happy birthday hun. Thirty-two!”, as I give her a flurry of kisses, counting up to thirty-two. “Huh? Oh… thanks,” rubbing her eyes and still visibly in her realm of d...
Weekly Contest #265
The Arrangement Back to India for Christmas, the overwhelming humidity in the air is always a welcome-home banner. The familiar road to my ancestral home, a coffee plantation-laden landscape, is now unfamiliar. It's been a while since I've ventured to return, for a reason. Mom draws me into a tight embrace, immediately scolding me. “It’s been too long Vik." Without hesitation, she draws out the elephant in the room that needs addressing, “Your aunt and I have been long considering your options and you’re not getting any younger.” "Mom, I nee...
Weekly Contest #264
The entourage of cars and security units trailed behind the wedding car carrying the newlyweds, the granddaughter of the town's mayor and her husband, Lily and Rodrigo. Bennie, the wedding planner with the pixie hairdo, sat in the front passenger seat. Off they sped to the nearby beach resort where the guests and the wedding banquet awaited.Lily was the eldest granddaughter of the town’s mayor, whom the townsfolk referred to as "Grandma", that's how long she'd been around. Grandma ran the remote coastal town with the same familiarity and car...
Weekly Contest #263
When the Light FlickersAuthor: Elena Balaguer Chapter 1 - Who Stopped the Music? Aris, short for Aristotle, has wandered the globe throughout his whole existence, a Mary Poppins of sorts, I’ll go where I’m needed. So with the next change of wind, he found himself in the world’s busiest city, New York. It was a brisk morning, the kind that has you snorting out cold vaporous fumes, as Aris walked the early commuter-filled streets of New York. He excitedly let out, conversing with the morning air, "Time to infuse some magic," as he hurriedly ...
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