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Weekly Contest #220
The mourners, dressed in unrelieved black, shuffled slowly towards the casket. A deep silence enshrouded the cemetery. Each griever picked up a handful of dirt and tossed it into the open grave, symbolizing a last goodbye, the last act of kindness they could ever offer the loved one. The dearly departed returns to nature and the cycle of life is complete; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. A sad adieu to the deceased, supposedly a sign of respect although I never could figure out why flinging a clod of dirt on top of someone...
Weekly Contest #219
THE CELL I sat on the floor and felt the rough stones at my back through my thin and ragged shirt. The room was small and cramped but it really didn’t matter, I had very few possessions anyway. It was a small attachment to the house and had once been used as some kind of accessory building or storage shed, perhaps a rudimental entrance way for there was a door that led into the main house. The low roof had at one time leaked causing watermarks on the walls and a strange funky smell that I knew must be mold. We moved into the hous...
Weekly Contest #218
THE STREET FAIR The street fair was a potpourri of aromas. Tangy barbeque sauce and grilled meat cooking over the coals were the most pungent of the smells that assaulted the nostrils so deliciously. One could almost taste the meat without even taking a bite. The next smell to tickle one's nose was that of popcorn; it was like walking into a theater, rich melted butter, and mouth-watering hot kernels. Level three to hit one’s nasal passages was a little harder to assess, it was very …interesting, and it was slightly rem...
Weekly Contest #217
CHASING THE DRAGON Evan slapped at the mosquitoes that thronged around his head, it wasn't so much the bites that bothered him, it was the endless droning of their frantic little wings creating that irritating noise that never ceased. They were his bete noir, his black beast, his nemesis, his curse, his plaque. There were few things that bothered Evan in life as much as the tiny mosquito. He couldn’t help himself, he had always had an intense hatred of the pesky creatures. He could walk through a herd of horned cattle with not a qualm in...
Weekly Contest #215
THE CHASE Nolen stood in the doorway of the drycleaning shop. The light above the door had burnt out months earlier and had never been replaced. The darkness didn’t bother Nolen, he thrived in the gloom, did his best work in an inky atmosphere, and had always felt that the darkness mimicked the colour of his soul. He checked his watch, 1:45 pm. It was Last Call but the exodus from Grimball’s Bar had already started. Several customers had already begun staggering out the door and waving down the taxis that lined up waiting like duck...
Weekly Contest #214
THE CALMING INFLUENCE OF TURQUOISE It was Labour Day, the last long weekend of the summer. All the kids would be back in school come Tuesday morning, dressed in their brand new back-to-school clothes and looking too cool for school. It was the last hurrah of the summer, time to break loose and have a wild time before buckling down to long months of hard labour. Is that why it's called Labour Day? Amy and I had gone up to the cottage for the weekend, three whole days of sitting in the sun, kicking back on the dock with the beverage of o...
Weekly Contest #213
THE SLIP OF THE HAND Margaret carried her empty coffee mug over to the kitchen sink, at the last second it slipped from her hand and crashed into the bottom of the sink, shards of porcelain exploding like shrapnel. One of the shards dug into the back of her hand. She gave a sigh of frustration as she grabbed the shard and pulled it out leaving a tiny bloody trail. She stared regretfully into the sink, it was her favourite mug, isn’t that always the way she thought? It was the mug the children in her kindergarten class had designed for ...
Weekly Contest #211
THE COZY ROOM The curtains were halfway drawn revealing an almost Christmas card photo of the great outdoors. The snow was deep and crisp and even and it was truly a winter wonderland. The pine trees were laden with a frosting of heavy white, their boughs bent under the weight of the snow. All that was lacking was the pitter-patter of eight tiny reindeer hooves on the roof and visions of sugarplums dancing in one's head to complete the scenario. Inside, the flickering fire in the fireplace turned the formal front parlour into a cozy d...
Weekly Contest #209
ROAD TRIP It was the jingle of a hundred bridles or so that had Brianna literally diving into the bushes in a ditch by the side of the road. There was the sound of rushing waters nearby that masked the beat of the horse's hooves and the jangle of the horse tack; bridles, bits, stirrups, and spurs; as well as the clanging of the knight's armor. At first, she had thought the beating noise was the result of a small waterfall or a cascade, or even thunder, but as the cavalcade got closer she realized there was a metal-against-metal...
Weekly Contest #208
SUZY Q. I lived in the house for thirty years, raised seven children in it, and lost my husband in it. But now it was time to say goodbye. A lonely retired widow doesn't need an eight-bedroom house anymore. It was time to downsize and so it was also time to pack. I left the bedroom to the end, it was hard to say goodbye to the house There was a lump in my throat as I stood in the bedroom doorway. The closets hadn't been cleaned out in years, and it was a walk down memory lane with every outfit I pulled out. The dress I ...
Weekly Contest #207
BEHIND THE SCENES “We got a bleeder here,” shouted Vince as he whipped out the clean cloth from the apron tied at his waist. He rushed over to where Karl stood swaying, looking shell-shocked, over the cutting board at the stainless steel kitchen counter; the blood dripping from his hand. Vince quickly bound the hand with his towel as he tried to calm down Karl. “It’s ok Karl, You're gonna be fine.” assured the sous chef, Vince. “For God’s sake,” shouted the Chef in irritation, “don’t get blood in those potatoes. They are Le Bonnotte po...
Weekly Contest #206
HIS NAME IS FEAR Fear! Fear and I had become long-time friends. Perhaps friends might be the wrong word for our relationship. Perhaps acquaintances, or frenemies; now there was a word that had a trendy ring to it. Maybe it was enemies. Whatever the relationship, we knew each other intimately, for we had lived together for some time now. We first met that early spring day in the hospital a year ago. I remember Jack and I laughing all the way there, pointing out the first robin of the season in the park. Watching as it cocked its head to o...
Weekly Contest #205
Five I couldn’t breathe. I felt my anxiety building. Escalating. I tried to take some cleansing breaths. Instead, I started gasping for air. This wasn’t working. Think of what your therapist told you. The little voice inside my brain urged me. Which one? I can’t even remember his name. Focus. I can’t. Focus on your breathing. I breathed in a deep breath, held it for a moment then breathed out. I repeated it four more times. Five was the magic number. It was working. I’m not going to die. My name is Monica. Monica James. I’m a travel ...
Weekly Contest #199
It was the dog days of summer, the night was hot and humid, moist and sultry. The cicada bugs were droning in the trees, their endless rhythm as constant as the heat. Both relentless in their purpose. The sweat trickled down Clair’s spine, saturating her tank top, a constant stream of dampness pooling at the waistband of her shorts. She breathed in short gasping breaths. She lifted her water bottle to her face and reveled in the slight physical relief as the ice-cold bottle offered only a fragment of reprieve from the oppressiveness of the...
Weekly Contest #198
Seth hunkered down behind a large leafy bush. He could smell a strong urine scent of an animal that had recently relieved himself close by, but his need for safety far outweighed his need for the luxury of a rose-scented bush. He could hear them coming. They were not trying to hide themselves or camouflage their numbers, why would they? They obviously had the upper hand, he was but one, they were many. Or at least there seemed to be many. They were big boys, strong boys…mean boys. Last week they had slammed him into a locker at the end of ...
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