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Weekly Contest #227
I stood before my window, shivering in a flimsy T-shirt, heart disintegrating. I swear I could feel my pupils pinpricking against the searing brightness of 2005’s first snowfall. That bright white had awakened me, blasted through the seasonal central Illinois greys. I always slept with my blinds open back then, last townhouse on a dead-end road, top of the hill, privacy by default. First snowfall of the season, not generally a big whoopty-do in central Illinois. It’s not like Michigan or even Chicago. Here, snow comes in on cat feet, and us...
Weekly Contest #224
Eliza woke well before sunrise, at first dreaming of, then humming along to an oldie but goodie from her favorite songbird. Karen Carpenter’s contralto cooed through “We’ve Only Just Begun.” It lulled Eliza out, then in, then back out of dreamland. She rubbed her eyes and smiled for the she she’d used to be. It had been everyone’s wedding song back then, though it had always seemed theirs alone. Still half asleep until the final stanza, she sighed, sat up, and clicked off the clock alarm. Its digital display read 5:25, the earliest hour she’...
Weekly Contest #221
She appears peripherally, in a shimmering blaze of brightness, like sun glinting off a mirror splice. I catch my breath and turn my head slowly towards her, anticipating her disappearance. She crisps into focus. I blink, and then again, slide my sunglasses down my nose, then back in place, positive the polarized lenses will render her but a glare. She remains. If she is real, am I the ghost? I pinch myself. Per usual, I feel nothing. My feet hold fast as if weighted, as if they are sandbags guarding against a flash flood. My mouth is a des...
Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #218 ⭐️
The House Always Wins Las Vegas, 2010 Chirp! The low-battery cry from a lonely smoke detector echoed through the condo’s courtyard. Trinity, normally immune to the sound, startled. She rolled her eyes at her own overreaction. Just a crash cricket, she thought, and dug through her bag for her compact. Her reflection was that of a twenty-something, though she was a week away from her thirty-fifth birthday. Even natural light was kind to her. Trinity Parker was a breathtaking blonde with the world on a string. And a dead body in her SUV. ...
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