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Weekly Contest #123
Most of the crowd had left by now, but there were still a few people talking near the doors and I watched them without really looking as I sat on the edge of the stage. The stage was old, to the point where some of the wood had begun to warp. But it was well polished, and even though the wood was dark and the lights were low, there was still a gleam to it. We had run the play twice back to back, so by the end of it I was exhausted, but not quite tired in a way that meant I could sleep. I was wired. I always was after a performance, as w...
Weekly Contest #83
It was nearly sunset when I pulled myself out of the water and onto the dock. I hadn't thought to bring a towel, so I stretched myself out on the planks, arms crossed, eyes closed, and let the failing light do what it could. I had never been one to swim alone—especially in the sea—but today was a Thursday—one of those middle of road Thursdays of extreme mediocrity—and after dreaming my way through half the day in the red heat, I had finally given in and dived off the end of the dock. It was fine for everyone else to stay in the house, b...
Weekly Contest #82
It took Elsie two minutes flat to fortify the patch of carpet between the end table and the wall and the chaise. A soon as Nanny had stepped out of the room—“just give me one second, dear,”—Elsie had left her place at the big glass dining room table where her and Nanny had been working at school and dropped into the crawlspace next to the couch. After a moment's thought, Elsie hopped back out and grabbed her blanket and a pillow from the chaise. In the crawlspace Elsie stretched the blanket above her until it formed a canopy, and then...
Weekly Contest #81
Matt was dicing tomatoes when Leo burst back into the kitchen, cradling a stack of dirty dishes in one arm while he kicked open the door with his right foot. “I think I know the girl at seven-o-two,” said Leo, setting his cargo down on the counter beside Matt’s cutting board. Matt gave the mess of plates and bowls and half-finished entrees a quick, side-ways glance—careful that it seemed a somewhat critical movement—and went back to his work. “Seven-o-two,” said Matt, “two salads,” with the edge of his knife he tidied up...
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