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Submitted to Contest #329
A man walks into a diner. He had the unfortunate luck to break down on the most desolate stretch of highway. It had started to rain about a half mile back and he was beginning to lose hope when a beacon of hope in the form of a truck stop diner appeared before him. His boots hit the mat just inside the entrance just as the clock struck midnight. He sat down, ordered a slice of pie and a cup of warm coffee to help with the rain's biting chill. But something strange was off about this place it wasn’t all it seemed- “Need a refill on at coffee ...
Submitted to Contest #309
The sound of groans and creaks echoes deep within this old house, sounds that only occur when a rain storm has overstayed its welcome. Mother used to say that these small noises were the house’s weary bones settling in for the summer storm. I always thought it was the house’s bid to diverge all its secrets to those who would bother to listen. The rain has a funny effect on people, and by extension inanimate objects I guess, to tell your stories. The sound of the rain drumming on the floor to ceiling windows in the hall almost drowned out the...
Submitted to Contest #290
This feeling I cannot voice…it is everything and nothing all at once. Some may call it an enigma. A feeling that the richest man cannot buy and yet the poorest man may find in abundance. Science has even tried to break it down to chemicals and atoms. But those that try to explain it away with simple logic or try to attain it by less than savory means are missing the point entirely. It is a feeling that infects every aspect of one's being from head to heart. It drowns and it saves. Like an endlessly vast ocean it dunks your heart into i...
Submitted to Contest #287
The sound of hissing echoed in the small room, face to face with a man who could either fix my broken life or grind what was left into dust. My host lazily glanced at the kettle spitting and sputtering on the stove, alerting through its wail that it was ready to fulfill its purpose. The sudden whistling cut through the silence that prevailed when I entered this room. That sense of unease deepened as my host slid from his perch and made his way to the angry kettle. Every step was careful and measured, starkly contrasting to the cutting figure...
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