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Weekly Contest #375
It started with a feather. White, of course. It has to be white to count. Mira found it under the windscreen wiper, and something in her switched back on. That night she slept for the first time since the call about her mum. Because it was a message. Her mum saying she was okay. At peace. My mother-in-law was into all that stuff. Knocking on wood, throwing salt over her shoulder. If an old wives' tale told her to do it, Lynn Chapman did it. She'd say things like, 'Never thank anyone for a plant. It'll hear you and die.' Once, in the middle o...
Weekly Contest #106
My clock says 6. There are thirty minutes to go. Thirty minutes is half an hour because it is half of sixty. There are sixty minutes in an hour. So there is half an hour before I can go to mummy and daddy’s room. I want to go now. I don't like being alone. But it is a rule. They made that rule when I was little because they don’t like waking up early. Before 7 is early. I wanted 6 and they wanted 7, but I couldn't wait until 7. So, we made a deal. 6:30. Oh. Now my clock says 6:01. 29 minutes to go. I hate waiting. Mummy always tells me I s...
Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #105 ⭐️
Present Day: Lola We see our lives as solid. Structures we have built, brick by brick. But I know they are shoddy constructions, not fit for purpose. It’s the illusion of normalcy that is dependable. Just look at my living room, unchanged even as my world crumbles. Only the officers in their uniforms spoil the otherwise familiar scene. And even they will be gone soon. Over the past week, as it all unfolded, I kept thinking about the time Grayson broke his arm. Just a normal Saturday afternoon at the park. A train on a track it had traversed...
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