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Weekly Contest #71
Zila Babbitt was a 30-year-old kind, caring, woman. She’s been a baker for countless years. Not that she only gave her customers a warm treat, but she also leaves them wondering how a young woman could make delicacies so grandmotherly. She always inspected anyone whose eyes caught her attention.“Hello, Ms. Babbitt! Charlotte is having a birthday party tomorrow. Is it okay if you make pepperoni pizza and some blueberry muffins for the party, please?” asked Mrs. Lily, admiring the cakes in the window freezer. Mrs. Lily was a Wayside Elementary...
Weekly Contest #70
“Pam, could you come over to my house?” I pleaded.“Why?” the phone muffled back.“Just come over! Your surprise is waiting; ask no more.” I responded.“Okay, then.” Pamela hesitated, exactly as the doorbell rang.Down the stairs, I went, and to the door, I ran. “Here too soon, Ash?” my friend grinned.“What and how? Never mind! It’s freezing out there. Come in!” I panted.“Look, Ashley. You’ve got to accept the fact that I’m -”Finishing her sentence, I murmured, “More talented, more organized, more educated, and more trusted.” Pam raves abo...
Weekly Contest #67
Normal was that night in Nice, France. I was strolling along the sidewalk surrounded by beautiful, light pink trees. When I turned away from my path, I heard screaming. Jerking my head towards the sounds, my eyes captured a woman, lying on the road. A red puddle oozed from her lifeless body. Running in panic and hearing two other screams, I slammed into a wall and fell like a chopped tree. Dazed, my eyes tried to refocus. I saw three men dragging five women into a huge van. One man was holding three knives covered with blood. “Memorized thei...
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