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Weekly Contest #295
Myrtle shifted uncomfortably, scratching her neck. She wasn’t sure why the formalities were still necessary. She wore a long, black dress that swished down by her ankles, covered in sock-like black tights. A black scarf was wound around her neck, and she carried a tiny black umbrella, that wouldn’t be useful in keeping the rain out if the dark clouds above decided to open on her.‘Hi, Myrtle. Thanks for coming.’ Mrs Hartnell greeted Myrtle with a sort of watery smile, her eyes soft and untouched by the gesture. Her hands were clasped together...
Weekly Contest #294
You know that one story that’s whispered behind closed doors, that you’ve heard more than once, that plagues a small town enough to become it’s reputation? Well, in my town, I was the story. I was the one who disappeared. People talked about me. People gossiped and laughed. How do I know this? Well, I watched it all happen. I watched myself go from the topic of all conversations to an unsettling feeling in the background, fading with time. I watched as I vanished from the world, my mark waning, until I was the urban legend the town passed do...
Weekly Contest #293
I’d never been on an overnight train before. I’d only seen the cramped carriages in movies –two characters sharing one or two small beds pressed right against the wall, barely enough room to stand between them, people stacked together like sardines in tiny compartments. The train company caring more about emptying wallets than the quality of the carriages. But this one wasn’t like that. I had a bed that was big enough for me to comfortably stretch out facing a large, square window with shades I could pull down during the night, similar to th...
Weekly Contest #292
The man stands in front of the painting, a faint smile tugging on his lips. It’s positioned in the centre of the gallery, the main attraction, the masterpiece. His masterpiece. Well, he didn’t make it. But he found it. He recognised its eternal beauty, older than anyone who would ever see it but somehow still as young as when it was first made. A happy accident, many would call it, if they ever knew its true backstory. How it came to be hanging in the middle of the gallery in the twenty-first century. But of course, no one could ever know. T...
It was like I was staring into the eyes of a mannequin. Her eyes were dull and glossy, her face a pasty white and beaded with perspiration. Her lips were chapped and her skin was pulled tightly over her thin frame.‘Water, please, darl,’ Mum croaked, reaching out and placing a bony hand on top of mine. My heart sank. It killed me to see her like that. It killed me to watch her vomit every morning, hunched over the toilet, her frail body heaving out watery vomit flecked with blood. ‘Please let me take you to the hospital. I’ll get the money fr...
Weekly Contest #291
Bright lights glare at me from overhead. My back aches and my mouth is dry, like sandpaper. I try to speak but my tongue flops helplessly in my mouth. A strange gurgling sound erupts from the back of my throat. Long, matted hair tickles my neck. My vision begins to sharpen. I’m in a bed. There’s a machine beeping beside me and something over my mouth, hissing gently. I can see my reflection off the polished panels on the ceiling. But something seems off. I don’t recognise myself. How did I get here? And why do I look like that? THREE DAYS EA...
Weekly Contest #290
He was kissing me.It was magical, it was incredible, and it was forbidden. It made fireworks explode inside me and my heart race and my worries melt away, just for that moment. I wanted to make it last forever. I wanted the moment to freeze in time and be forever immortalized in a photograph, to collect dust on a shelf but never fade.‘You have to go,’ Nolan murmured. ‘I know.’ ‘Space is waiting for you.’‘I know.’ Anything, anyone could have been waiting for me. But in that moment, I didn’t care about the challenges ahead or the struggles I’d...
Weekly Contest #289
‘So, tell me about yourself, Megan. Do you have any hobbies? Are you interested in anything? Apart from videography, of course.’ I forced a tight smile over gritted teeth as Ross grinned lopsidedly at me, as if we were sharing an inside joke. We weren’t. I’d met the man barely ten minutes ago when he waved me over at the small table-for-two inside a lavish restaurant –the walls lined with artwork over the fuzzy, maroon wallpaper, yellow chandeliers hanging from the ceiling casting shadows like spiderwebs that shifted across Ross’ face as he ...
Weekly Contest #288
The rain drummed on the concrete pavement as I stood beneath an old oak tree, its leaves doing little to shield me from the downpour. My jumper clung to my skin with a strange, sticky heat, like the weather couldn’t decide if it wanted to be a hot or a cold day. My hair was clumped together around my shoulders, my face stained with tears I thought I had left behind. A recurring reminder of the anguish that constantly hung over my head, the weight of the world, left for me to bare alone. Ten years. It’d really been ten years, yet somehow no t...
The wind beat against the house, picture frames on the walls rattling, hailstones as big as golf balls pelting against the windows. It felt as if the ground beneath my feet could open up at any second, engulfing me in nature’s wrath.I was screaming, but I couldn’t hear my own voice above the noise. My lungs heaved and my throat burned but my mind was poisoned by fear and running on adrenaline. ‘JASMINE!’ I screamed, my voice spiking with anguish. The T.V was blaring in the background, an old, balding newsreader rambling on while an extreme w...
Weekly Contest #287
The frigid breeze instantly subsided as I stepped into the café, the blasting heat hitting me like a slap in the face. The buzz of the outside world, fresh on a Monday morning was replaced by the soft hum of conversations, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the barista yelling names while holding a small cup or brown paper bag with a pastry in it. ‘Morning, Arial. Can I get you your usual?’ Jane was my usual barista, with her sleek, dark hair swept into a messy bun behind her head, a red apron with dark, coffee-coloured stains tied over ...
Weekly Contest #286
I held the magazine in my hands like it was porcelain, cradling the frayed edges and the staples that barely clung the grubby paper together anymore. It was the last edition ever printed, and I was on the front cover, staring down the camera in bold colour. I sighed and placed it back on my bookshelf, the itching emptiness in my heart returning, discontentedness as soon as it left my fingertips. I placed it beside the newspaper that I slipped into an old, golden frame. The colour had faded in the paper after I had thumbed it so many times, b...
Weekly Contest #285
The sun hung low in the sky, shooting gleaming golden rays through gaps in the city’s array of skyscrapers. The evening air was alive with flies and mosquitoes, drawn to the humidity that hung like thick clouds over my head. The horizon was dark, on the brink of night, but pink clouds were strewn around the aurous glow of the sun. A man perched on the opposite edge of the bus stop seat coughed, and I flinched. Nicotine stains tainted his fingers and a trail of smoke expelled from his nostrils, a cigarette jammed between his lips. I shivered,...
Weekly Contest #284
The baked dish was warm in my hands, the crinkled foil covering the tray glinting in the evening glow. It was the kind of night where mosquitoes claimed the warm, dusky air and the shrill croak of crickets emanated from the bushes. Shifting the dish into one hand, I jammed my thumb into the old doorbell, flakes of rust spiralling to the ground. No response, no sound that the doorbell had done anything at all. I lifted my hand and rapped my knuckles against the wooden door, and quickly, a shadow passed through the stained glass window on the ...
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