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Weekly Contest #65
Being dead is weird. I still exist, I think, but people can’t see me. I like to move things around, little things like throwing rocks near birds or blowing the top off a dandelion, just to remind myself that I’m really still here. I wish other people would know that too. People got over my death pretty quickly, some of them did before I even died. I was gone for a while, a few years probably, before I finally got to go. That’s what I call dying because I felt dead long before it actually happened. One can hardly call wasting away, hardly abl...
Weekly Contest #34
I hate staying in. I understand why we have to, and I’ve even argued with people who think this whole thing is meaningless, but that won’t stop me from hating it. I feel robbed, in a way, by the world. It’s my senior year, my last taste of childhood before I go into the world and leave home, and I’m spending it here, alone and wandering the halls of my house. It’s spring break, I should be throwing a football around with the boys or crashing Maia Welch’s annual spring bash and messing something up in her house to get her in trouble or at lea...
Weekly Contest #14
“I- I don’t know if I can do this.” His eyes flashed quickly out to the sea around them for a moment before looking back at the envelope he was holding, crumpled from his iron grip. He seemed to consider throwing it out to the sea so only the monsters of the deep would know what secrets it held. “What would you do if I refused? What then?” His words may have gotten braver, but that was the only thing that had. His eyes were watery and his hands trembled. It was an odd look on someone as muscular as him; he was rarely afraid of anything, but ...
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