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Weekly Contest #373
A man sits on the opposite side of my table, his hands chained to the desk. Professionals of all sorts flank me on my right side, armed police officers on my left. I allow the man’s restlessness and worry to grow. A minute passes before I speak. “Your full name?” He startles at the sound of my voice, like I’m a car alarm blaring at a robber. “Kennington Peabody Arelsing.” “Angelina Maria Brown.” Her dark eyes bore into me, fiery and fearless. I don’t need to exert much energy to make my face look oblivious and unimpressed. “Thank you. I’m g...
Weekly Contest #365
Why the hell is she staring at me like that? Unless I’m mistaken (which I’m NOT), I made it very clear to her that she wasn’t to come within five feet of me, look at me, breathe the same air as me, etc. And, okay. Maybe I did pie her. Maybe I did place crickets in her lunch. Maybe I did use spray cheese to ruin her house. Maybe I do have a Burn Book filled with the dirtiest, most vile thoughts about her. (Maybe I add a page or two to it every day.) But that doesn’t hold a candle to what she’s done to me. Once middle school started, we mutual...
Weekly Contest #364
They’re right behind me. “Eleanor! Left!” My best friend shouts from my right. We pound through the maze of tunnels that has become the JFK Airport on the one day a year it’s closed. “Copy that, Maya!” I pant, the Federal Bureau of Investigation seconds from tackling us. Just at the point where my lungs are about to burst, Maya and I split. She ducks into a corridor, then bolts down a staircase while I sidestep into the ladies’ room and plunge into the aroma of Febreeze and cheap bleach. The eight FBI agents chasing us part ways, too, with f...
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