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Submitted to Contest #291
I traced my finger across the glass, the smudge of oil trailing behind incapable of marring the crystalline pane of the door. Nothing could dull the brilliance of the world beyond: the vibrance of the daffodils sprouting through the last mounds of winter’s snow, the brightness of the sun blaring from the spotless sky above. My eyes strained against the glare, begging me to squint, to shield myself from the relenting rays. But I embraced the warmth, basking in the first taste of spring. It was a welcomed reprieve after the weeks of bitter, me...
Submitted to Contest #278
She sat at the table, her hands pressed flat against the carvings in the worn wood. Some were more distinct, yet some were hardly noticeable, worn from time or failed attempts to smooth them. So many hands had traced these marks as she had, lost in the patterns as she was now. She felt for initials of those hoping to leave a reminder of their existence etched in perpetuity, followed geometric designs and rudimentary sketches, and smirked at the jagged profanities dug in succession meant only as a means to pass the time. She...
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