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Weekly Contest #374
It is so much work to be seen—to be recognized as something distinct from the world around you. There is no one person to blame for this, because, I’ll confess, sometimes even I struggle to see myself. I am often taken aback when I notice my hands clenched into fists, or my breath stuck in my chest, as if I were actively bottling it up for later use. How can I expect others to see me when I can barely look at myself? Now, disappearing feels like the easiest thing in the world. *** The first time I felt it, I was eleven years old. Standing in...
Weekly Contest #371
Reena Tompkins hated change, which is why she still parted her mousy brown hair down the side. She stood staring at the Public Notice zip-tied to the mall's north entrance: bright yellow paper, bold letters promising A NEW ERA OF COMMUNITY GROWTH with demolition starting Tuesday. At 9 PM, the soft jazzy music over the loudspeakers shut down. Then the nighttime security guard left by 9:17 PM, as usual, noted by the whistling that faded out through the sliding glass doors. It was an hour past closing on her last shift, and Reena was still wip...
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