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Weekly Contest #353
The Smallest Expert The future of indoor plants was saved on a random Thursday morning by a seven-year-old girl with a bottle of beer. At the time, the little girl was sitting at the far end of the living room carpet, her yellow socks slipping halfway off her heels. She arranged her Disney Princess dolls in a circle around two houseplants. The carpet smelled faintly of old fabric. A thin strip of morning sunlight slipped through the blinds, and tiny specks of dust danced in the air.Above the plants, a purple lamp hummed softly, painting her ...
Weekly Contest #347
Always the One to Blame The leftover pasta stares at me accusingly from the shelf above, its lid smeared red at one corner. Cold light spills over the yogurt cups arranged in a perfect row on the spotless glass below. I grab the container and shut the fridge door. Reaching into the cabinet above the coffee machine, I carefully take out a navy Tommy Bahama bowl. “How much longer until the food’s ready? I’m starving,” my husband shouts from upstairs. We live in a two-story townhome, and he has a room of his own on the second floor. To save hi...
Weekly Contest #346
I Love You Endlessly Content warning: This story contains themes of illness, separation, and emotional loss. “I love you endlessly.” I mouth the words while looking straight into the camera. I want him to know I’m looking right at him. A video call cannot truly do that, but he will know I mean it with everything in me. Then I trace a heart in the air with both hands, and my grandfather smiles widely. Beside him, my grandmother adjusts her glasses and squints at the screen. “I love you, and I can’t wait to see you in a few months.” I repeat t...
Weekly Contest #345
After the Lights Came On Trigger warning: distressing themes, grief, and emotional trauma. My furry friends are waiting for me. They are the ones on my mind as I turn the key in the lock. Not the date. Not the pain in my legs after the long walk home. Not even the familiar worry that has lived in our house for the past year, pressing into every part of our lives. They’re the first thing I think of. Their soft ears. Their twitching noses. The way they perk up when they hear my steps. The watermelon rind I saved for them this morning. I open ...
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