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Weekly Contest #277
THE PRICEBy Janet Lorimer I had no name. Sometimes I would stand in front of the mirror and stare at my image, my long straight hair the color of ripe wheat and my pale green eyes. I would softly ask the girl in the mirror, “Who are you?” Up until I was six or seven, there were only two things I wanted: To be a princess and to have a name. Sometimes I made up pretend names for myself, like Princess Rose or Princess Butterfly.&n...
Weekly Contest #273
THE CHILDREN’S HOUR By Janet Lorimer The little girl was huddled next to a newspaper rack at the front of the store, her face smeared with tears. Benny knelt beside her. “Did you lose your mommy?” he asked gently. The tot stopped crying, and stared at him in the curious, unblinking way of very young children. “Don’t worry, she’s probably around here somewhere,” he said, reaching out to take her tiny hand. “Shall we—?” “Oh, there you ar...
Weekly Contest #272
Note: This story contains references to necrophilia, abuse of a corpse, murder of a child. HOW TO MAKE ENDS MEETBy Janet Lorimer Tonight is Halloween. Under the porch light I stand, holding a bowl of candy. Small ghouls and goblins run by, laughing and shouting. I watch for the little straggler who has fallen behind the older children. His cries of “Wait for me!” go unheeded. I am ready, my open hand outstretched so he can see the treat that rests upon it. He climbs the steps, coming to me just as I once cam...
Weekly Contest #271
SCARLETBy Janet Lorimer It all happened so quickly, I didn’t have time to think. I had the light, and I was driving with the flow of traffic. I maintained a few feet between my car and the car in front. Rush hour traffic in San Francisco can be tricky to navigate, but I’d driven in this city for years. It was second nature to me. I was on my way out of town to spend a few days with my cousin in Los Angeles. I was a little tired from a long day at work, but I didn’t think I was distracted. As my...
Weekly Contest #270
THE HEART OF THE MATTERBy Janet Lorimer When I was a kid, I never wanted to learn how to cook. Not even when I hit my teens. In my town that was what girls and women did, but I was a bit of a tomboy and all I wanted to do was hang out with my cousins and go to the funerals. Funerals were a big deal in my town. There were more of them than holidays. Most of the funerals were held for our menfolk, but a lot of those were because o...
Weekly Contest #268
JOURNEY’S ENDBy Janet Lorimer The tale is told of a poor shoemaker, a bitter man, who plied his trade in a small shop on a narrow street in Jerusalem. One day his work was interrupted by a great commotion outside. Curious, the shoemaker went to the doorway in time to see a man, covered in blood and sweat and dragging a great wooden cross, stumble and fall against the outer wall. Angry, the shoemaker berated him. “You’re bad for business. Get away from my shop.” The injured man tur...
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