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Weekly Contest #252
My fetish site started as a joke.My daughter and I were discussing ways to make money. Laughingly, over our regular visit and cup of tea at her place, we started discussing crazy ways to supplement the spotty crop revenues. We are part of a family farm and it’s been a rough few years. No rain and lots of wind, crops struggling to break through a dry, crusted earth. Both of our husbands leave the house each day, mouths tight with grimaces, returning in soot-covered dust and looks of resignation. It sucks.She asked me what I was good at,...
A Delightful Meal She comes back into the house from emptying the trash; a heavy load this time. She takes a deep breath after dragging the two lumpy bags and then takes another, deeper breath, as with great effort she hoists them into the plastic barrel. Her right hand slaps the lid firmly shut as though to lock it; no escape for this trash. It is held captive until the big truck arrives and slides its two large forks into the container’s sides, lifting and tilting the refuse into its open, filthy mouth. She imagines the bags dropping into ...
Weekly Contest #194
(a piece from a larger work) SPILLED MILK “It’s too late to worry over spilled milk.” OPEN HOUSE The late model Mercedes Benz glides smoothly up to the gate, the heavy stone pillars on either side standing sentinel. A security guard dressed in crisp clothing and sheltered from a punishing sun steps out of his air-conditioned office, a twelve-by-twelve foot cubicle with a small desk, executive chair, mini fridge, and a small bathroom with all the necessary amenities. He smiles when he sees who has arrived, pushes a button outside of his smal...
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