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Weekly Contest #316
“He’s in the canal.” Simon cocked his head to the door. “Could be the one outside this pub, for all I know. Probably stuck to one of the bicycles at the bottom.” Martin raised an eyebrow. “You know, his shirt wrapped around a handlebar or something,” Simon said, as if it was obvious. “That’s why his body hasn’t floated up to the surface.” “What makes you think he drowned? A missing teenager could turn up anywhere.” Simon shook his head and took a gulp from his pint. “In the canal, I’m telling you. Just a drunk boy who lost his balance when h...
Weekly Contest #315
A growling cough pushed a final acid chunk out of his throat and into the sink. Philip raised his bloodshot eyes and looked at the man in the mirror. “Fucking asshole. You call yourself a lawyer? A brother? You’re pathetic.” He slammed his fist into his own reflection and watched with satisfaction how his face shattered off the wall and his knuckles cried with blood. With a trembling sigh, he opened the faucet and tried to wash the red guilt from his hand—but it kept bleeding. When he scooped a handful of water and splashed it into his face,...
Weekly Contest #246
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