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Weekly Contest #322
"Man, you're not digging down on the vibe," Levi said. "There's something missing. It's the vibe, you know? Can't you feel it?" Levi covered the head of the microphone and shook his head in exasperation. He did exasperation well with his rats' nest of naturally curly hair that he couldn't be bothered to brush or comb or style."Robbie, man, are you listening to me?" Levi said while snapping his fingers as if to bring him out of a trance."Dude, I don't know what 'digging down on the vibe' means. Like, I mean, what?" Robbie said. Robbie had rec...
Weekly Contest #321
Virgil was very, very tired. Each morning, he rolled over, groped for the button on the alarm clock, sat up in bed, stretched his arms toward the sky, and let out a yawn that did not sound like a lion's roar. The sounds that came from his mouth while he yawned were a moan. This moan was a lifetime's worth of dissatisfaction jettisoned each morning into the ether, and no one beyond Virgil would ever hear his unhappy braying. No one would ever rush to his side to offer to make things better, to make him better, to make his existence on this pl...
Weekly Contest #320
The Field TripI acknowledge now that it was not a very good idea. In fact, in light of events, I acknowledge that it was a very bad idea. When I was planning the field trip, though, it seemed like the perfect way to capture the curiosity and imaginations of the children. It seemed like a beautiful way to teach them the wonder of natural science in a way where they could be part of the spectacular nature of, well...nature.The PlansAll of the planning followed the usual procedure, involved completing the usual forms, and ended with the usual a...
Weekly Contest #319
Doing the right thing was sometimes the easiest thing but, often, though, the hardest thing. "If left untended, things invariably tend toward chaos," a professor explained in a biochemistry class. This professor was the essence of what happened when something was left untended."Class, look at my eyes," he said. "Can you see this cataract on my left eye? Look at my arms. Can you see the misshapen veins protruding from my forearms?" He wore an unfortunately out of date golf shirt, but proved his point by turning his forearms toward the class t...
Winner of Weekly Contest #318 🏆
My parents loved me. I knew they did. However, in their quest to remain young and relevant, they failed spectacularly to embrace that I would, inevitably, grow older. At some point, they would have to acknowledge the chubby toddler fat would give way to sprawling, awkward limbs, the dawning muscle of youth, the sinews of which would become the solid flesh of adolescence. From there, we were but the briefest amount of time away from when adolescence would become the teen years. I don't think they thought much about how my growing up would eve...
Weekly Contest #317
When he was an adolescent, he was incredibly reckless. He treated each day like it were no more than kicked up dust on the toes of his shoes. And he didn't feel any compulsion to give them a rough tap to dislodge the dust. It simply wasn't worth his time, and truth be told, it wasn't worth his effort either.He had a strut to his walk. He had seen "Saturday Night Fever," and he liked how John Travolta commanded the scene any time he entered. Whether it was a sidewalk or a dance floor, every eye looked his way. On the cusp of being a high scho...
Weekly Contest #316
It was oppressively hot. The kind of hot that immediately melts the ice in your iced tea, skipping from cold directly to lukewarm. It was the kind of hot that rendered many a young lady's face a seeming rictus of pain not long at all after melting off every last molecule of makeup. It was the kind of hot that made the gnats leave their nests to find somewhere with water where they could dive-bomb for respite in exchange for their brief lives. Something about the heat woke both the cicadas and the mosquitoes. The mosquitoes could be diverted ...
Weekly Contest #315
[NOTE: there is arson in this story.]"Happy birthday, motherfucker!" she screamed into the garage, pausing momentarily to toss a Zippo lighter over her shoulder. Out of spite, she had sown the floor with butane and sparklers because…why not.Earlier in the evening, she took her time dressing, getting ready for the main event. Black tank top, leather jacket, black leather mini-skirt, thigh high stiletto heeled boots. Lipstick the color of blood, anger, vengeance; glossy like the irresistible candy apples in the county fair. Eyes lined with bla...
Weekly Contest #314
[Note: There is an allusion to some disgusting murder of an old woman and violence toward children. Heads up.]Once upon a time, there was so much magic in the world and so much time! A person could sit and take in every atom, molecule, cell, and being; we could see the sky, the heavens, the earth all around us. We felt and heard every tree, every shrub, every leaf, blade of grass, even the tiniest creatures occupying the most minuscule places in the foliage. And in every moment of experience, we could always find magic.The magic was so loose...
Weekly Contest #313
"Where is the Love! The answer is, Where is the Love!" I shouted."Very good, Emi, but what's the name of the singing group or artist?" the host wanted to know. He was a fill-in host, and I didn't catch his name. Being called to the stage enthralled me to the point of almost wetting my britches. Oh, lordy. I could not wait to call my sister. She would be green as a grinch with envy."I know this," I yelled. "You're going to be so surprised when I nail this answer. By the way, can you tell me your name again? I was so excited to get on the show...
Weekly Contest #312
The InvitationIt was buttery smooth to the touch. Thick. Substantial. The sender spared no expense. The envelope was not addressed to me, Tommy Branson. It must have been meant for the apartment's former tenant, Andy Semple. But there was something about the envelope that begged me to open it, to see what was inside.The content of the envelope was a single piece of card stock, but calling it card stock shortchanges it. The card stock had the same buttery smooth feel as the envelope. The edges came to sharp corners, and the words printed on t...
Weekly Contest #311
This morning was a day like any other. My husband rolled over, brushing his stubbly chin against my forehead, then righting his position to give me a kiss on the lips while I slept. It was no longer a sound sleep, though. I smelled the coffee brewing downstairs, and the dogs had awakened and wanted us to know they were ready for all of us to begin our days. They liked to pretend I was their personal hopscotch grid to ensure I was aware of their immediate needs. Still, however, I stayed in bed while the house awoke around me. Our son had deci...
Weekly Contest #309
The people. Always the people. I loved and loathed them in equal measure. I was compelled to fill them with food, with drink, with stories, with song.And the food. From an early age, it was impressed upon me how important the food was. The work of forming the food with spoons, Yiayia's special wooden spoon, used for folding, mixing, stirring, swatting my cousin's back side when he was unruly. Surely it wasn't the same spoon used on my mom and uncle. We formed the food with our hands, kneading dough; our fingers, forming the koulourakia into ...
1 – TroubleMy aunt said they used to call him Johnny Cakes when he was little. She said there was something strangely wrong with 'Cakes' being part of any nickname for my dad as he grew up. They dropped the 'Cakes' when he turned into a terror who had to be sent away every summer. He had become a wild boy with very few boundaries. He terrorized my aunt, chasing her around the dining room table with Grandma's sewing shears. He had been bigger and faster and caught my aunt, giving her a haircut that robbed her of the golden curls of her early ...
Weekly Contest #308
"We must have hats," Julia said."Hats?" I asked."Yes," she said, her eyes shining. "This is a very big party we're throwing, and if we have hats, everyone will know we're the hostesses." Julia, my roommate, was a tall, willowy redhead. She was the the Irish rose found blooming in Midwestern America. As beautiful as she was, she wasn't the most forward-thinking young woman."This is maybe a dumb question," I began, "but since we're doing the inviting, and since we know everyone we're inviting, won't they know we're the hostesses?""Oh, right, r...
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