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Weekly Contest #263
In the white room, always clean and full of light, Death had made itself at home. It lingered like an unwelcome guest, curling up in the dark recesses behind doors, or lying in wait beneath the bed’s shallow. Its ghastly form remained unseen, its wheezing breaths unheard, yet its presence was unmistakable, marked by the foul stench that clung to the air. It was a scent of old blood mingled with lye, and human refuse tinged with a sharp, lemony undertone. Arthur abhorred the lemon smell most of all — it was a poor parody of the fruit, all the...
Weekly Contest #215
After a long day of driving, Brea and Ridley had at last made it free of the city. A winding road now guided them west, and with each turn they found themselves swathed in a fleeting moment of orange silk. The lazy sun had drawn the horizon’s blanket up to its chin like a drowsy giant. Ridley’s main focus was the road—an anxious driver who feared the sentinel oaks that flanked him on both sides. Tall and imposing, they cast a verdant dark canopy that turned the blue day overcast with leaf-green clouds. Beside him a sweet voice bro...
Weekly Contest #206
And lo, it rained from the sky; ripples of blue echoed through the air akin to the early morning, as if the sun rent the veil of night. Terror enveloped me, but in wonderment that fear fast diminished. The stars of the night sky dulled in its presence as the horizon was engulfed by billowy white clouds, tinged with fiery wisps at their fringes. As the light faded and the celestial gift plummeted to earth, its descent accompanied by a shrill and discordant whistle, the ephemeral day drew to a close and yielded once more to the night. The star...
Weekly Contest #171
As the dark sky vignettes with bleeding reds and pinks, the comfort of the cool night passes and the scorching sun rears its ugly head once again. Though it’s been what feels like an age since I’ve felt its heat a phantom burn still peels away at my mind each new day. Seven-hundred and eighty-two days since any sign of life, seven-hundred and eighty-two days since the birds fell from the sky, the oceans boiled alive, and man fell to his knees. Counting the days had kept me sane for over two years now but each day it takes longer to recall ho...
Weekly Contest #115
As the doctor prods away, I stare up at the ceiling, the red light of the smoke detector slowly blinking. “Already a year,” I mutter under my breath. “Hm?” Dr. Sharma looks up at me, wrapping what remains of my arm in a tight cloth. “Oh! A year since… yes, and in this year, you’ve healed great. The skin has formed over the cut well, and you’ve regained mobility in the elbow too.” “And what good is that when It’s not attached to anything?” I ask as he pushes away from the floor on his office chair, the wheels squeaking as he re...
Weekly Contest #65
The sluggish countdown of the clock to home time ticked slower and slower the more I stared, as my eyes began to sting, I swear the second hand moved backwards. Class had dragged more than usual today, perhaps because I finally had something to look forward to after school. My birthday had been a success and we had the SNES. No more long bike rides to the arcade on the weekend now, no… it was video games every night from now on. “Ryu… you get the game? We on for tonight?” Li asks, leaning over from her desk beside me, her eyes facin...
Weekly Contest #62
From the moment light broke through my thin, damp eyelids, I was told I would kill a great evil. My father, so sure of himself that I would grow strong enough to lead an army, that not only would I be willed enough to lift the sword, but brave enough to drive it through evil’s heart myself. He celebrated the night I was born, found in the morning with his face buried deep in the hay of pigs. A fight over coin, coin that was for our food, spent on women who preferred their patrons more sober than he. An old man not strong enough to handle his...
Weekly Contest #60
As a child I’d always feared graveyards to be endless night, a thick fog blanketing the ground with the only sound being that of the wind, twisting the dying branches of an old yew tree. But somehow, walking through these graves today, in bright sun and clear blue, I’m more terrified than I was as a child, passing the same church each morning in the car. My father telling me when the coast is clear and I can uncover my eyes, surviving once again. No comfort of his voice now, nor do I have the urge to cover my eyes. Wide and alert, scanning f...
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