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Weekly Contest #198
I had never been to Ms. Steele’s office before. Tyler has. He’s been here plenty, but I’ve never gotten a good description out of him. “Meh,” is the best answer he’s ever given, though the most frequent answer is a silent eye roll. Despite my thumping heart, I give myself a second to take it all in. I have no intention of ever being called back here, so I’m taking a mental picture. It’s cramped—that’s what it is. And yet every inch is painstakingly optimized. Shelves and file cabinets filled with neatly labeled documents line the room—too mu...
Weekly Contest #133
Becca has never eaten chocolate. I probably haven’t eaten a piece of chocolate myself since the Derailment — that’s what I call it. She was just a baby then, and we used to watch what she ate. We were responsible parents, we read books. But I guess no book would have prepared us for what would come next. I’m going up the deactivated escalator of Memorial Plaza Mall. This is like when Rita and I spent a snowy weekend in Paris. When we went back a couple of years later, in the summer, we didn’t recognize any of the streets without the thin — b...
Weekly Contest #128
He took all his stuff with him, except the Le Creuset. I start filling it with water and immediately realize I don't know what I'm doing. Do I fill it up completely or do I put only as much as I'm gonna drink? I'm not really a tea kind of girl. He was the tea guy, through and through. Because of him, I know tea bags are for losers: the right way of making tea is with loose leaves. You can use an infuser, the best one is probably the basket infuser. Tea ball infusers and silicone infusers are fine too, even a french press — if you're into tha...
Weekly Contest #100
I breathe out, the white cigarette smoke indistinguishable from the thick clouds of vapor coming out of people’s lungs into the freezing air of the indifferent streets. I can see it’s warm and cozy inside the café, but I much rather stay out here. I was the one who invited him, but I can’t go in. I would love to tell myself “Come on, Kate. You can do it.” But I’m not sure I can. The little bell over the door jingles as someone enters the café. I stay outside and fill my lungs with warm smoke while my phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s the f...
Weekly Contest #98
Ah, the eternal warfare between the things I want to do and the things I have to do. I'm not sure what being an adult encompasses, but I know this is a big part of it. I have to clean up the apartment, but I want to stay in bed. I have to get out of bed and start my day, but I want to write this first. I have to write this, but I want to play video games.It's a cold and cloudy Sunday morning in the south of Brazil. It does get chilly in the winter here — which is something that baffles most north-hemisphere inhabitants of this planet: "Reall...
Weekly Contest #82
The door banged behind Sammuel as he entered the dark garage and walked to his car.“Who does she think she is?” he said under his breath, his thick, grey mustache holding his words back.As he approached the car — Rhonda — it unlocked its own door with a low click, sensing the proximity of its owner. The plastic smell of technology emanated from the insides of the car. Its slick navy blue reflected the streetlamps’ cold light showering inside through the garage door’s one-way mirror. The street was empty outside, a black canvas of nothingness...
Weekly Contest #80
The TV wasn’t on mute but I couldn’t hear it beyond the wall of lo-fi hip-hop on my headphones. I didn’t know why Maureen still had a TV — it wasn’t even a smart TV and she never watched it — but, whatever the reason was, she was watching it now.I was on the table by the bed, with my back to the TV, working on a drawing. The project was due next week. She was sitting on the bed in a strange position, her chin resting on her knee, her bare leg crossed on top of the other one, which was dangling on the side of the bed. She was wearing only an ...
Weekly Contest #75
Jeffrey opened the door and was greeted by the cool insides of the small hospital room, his sleeping father judging his delay from the depths of his slumber. The room looked the same as last time, as if it had been waiting for his return. He loosened his scarf, walked to the corner of the room, and hung his coat on the stand. His father was sleeping peacefully in the bed, the machines beeping a slow beat. He left his gloves on the nightstand by the picture Molly had brought last time she had visited. Jeffrey adjusted the picture so it could ...
Weekly Contest #72
The I knows all. What you want to eat, what you want to buy, what you want to read, the reason why you cry. It knows what, it knows when, it knows how. The I knows all. When you need to drink, when you should be sad, all you ever think, when you should go to bed. The I knows it all. The world is deterministic, after all. Everything is an equation. a x b + c = i. We, through evolution, with our super-developed monkey brains, the most intelligent organic beings, can solve equations too. However, while we solve a, b, and c, and then our batte...
Weekly Contest #71
“That’s it,” Derakt said, storming into his house, “we’re killing the king!” He almost slammed the door into TooToo, who was following with quick, short steps, holding a second-place trophy. Derakt kicked off his shoes and sent them flying to the corner of the living room. TooToo did the same and left the trophy on the center table while Derakt marched through the wooden floor into the white tiles of the spacious kitchen. He took off the apron and threw it over his shoulder, loud breaths through flared nostrils. The apron landed over TooToo...
Weekly Contest #70
Possible triggers: Language and suicidal thinking.Detective Lopez stepped into the humid room and the cursor hurried to the big x in the corner of the screen to close the case report. Detective Richards opened some other file and looked busy, pursed lips under a pencil mustache. A slow thunder dragged itself across the sky as the heavy rain washed the city on the other side of the window. Lopez knocked on his desk with a smile.“Why are you still here, Richards?” she asked with a nod.His eyes crossed the nearly empty precinct to find the old ...
Winner of Weekly Contest #68 🏆
The orange sun peeked from behind the empty hills and found two sets of furrowed brows. On the driver seat, Michael lowered the sun visor, and his frown dissolved. On the passenger seat, his son did the same, and his frown didn’t move. Kevin’s eyes were lost beyond the hills, his arms crossed, his hands fiddling with the cord of the headphones. “I hate this time of day,” Michael said. There was no response from the passenger seat. The orange hangover sun was flooding the dashboard. The hills came and went lazily on the horizon. They said hi ...
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