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Weekly Contest #270
Gordan strutted into the lower kitchen, smelling like gold-plated perfume while the char-faced pimple-necked culinary aid bent over, struggling to stir a giant pot, his stomach slouching over the warm rim. “Dinner should be ready to serve by the witching hour, Bandit, that's thirty ticks,” Gordan said in his friendliest tone possible. Bandit looked to Gordan for a split-second, then silently continued, quickening his stirring speed. Gordan wandered over presumptuously with his chest puffed out and his hands behind his back, ready to lean ove...
Weekly Contest #224
I’m a rat. I’m hungry. And it’s dark. I woke up for the first time before dawn, which has now become a common occurrence. It was probably one of the darkest mornings I’ve ever experienced. I can barely see my brothers and sisters right next to me, let alone my surroundings. I struggle to latch onto a teat because my siblings are so much bigger than me. But I’m hungry. I finally squeeze my way through and start sucking but my mother moves away. It wasn’t clear to me at the time, but she didn’t want me. And because she didn’t want me, neither ...
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