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Weekly Contest #364
The predawn mist wraps around Wren while she walks along the shoreline, adjusting her basket of fresh cut willow bark. With a stiffness belying her age, she moves towards the grassy slopes above the water. The pain was worsening, peaking to a point of paralyses. She pauses, waiting for her muscles to relax, hoping the pain will pass. Glancing towards camp, her pulse quickens when she notices a soft glowing light already challenging the charcoal sky. Breathing deep, Wren continues towards the woods to hide the contents of her pack before she ...
Weekly Contest #341
CW: Grief The cobweb stretches as if it alone holds the door closed, it also shows how long it has succeeded. Yet a web is only an illusion regarding the passage of time. It could have been a century or a day old. However, I know for a fact how long it truly has been since eyes have seen the inside of this room. They say she went insane, her screams resonating down the street. Disrupting the suburban dream of an ideal picture-perfect neighbourhood. There is always some truth to rumours, but mostly they are just rumours. I wasn’t there so I c...
CW: Contains themes of domestic violence and substance abuse. I wish I felt the same excitement today when seeing a streaking light transverse the midnight blue sky. It used to be my favorite part of the night, standing beside him, waiting for the first star to etch-a-sketch across natures canvas. If you asked me as a child, I would have said we did this every night he came to visit, as an adult I know that isn’t true. Yet the times we did are embedded in memory, as deeply as any I have.After supper he would push away from the table with no ...
Weekly Contest #321
CW: Contains references to euthanasia They call it a felony. I call it a promise. No matter the outcome, I would do it again. Besides, it really isn't kidnapping. Well, he was napping, but he is no kid. He hadn't been one for about eighty-two years. I don't know the exact age when someone is no longer referred to as a 'kid.' I am guessing around five years old. The point is, I did not kidnap anyone. The sun had yet to rise when I begun the two-hundred-mile journey. Giving me time to think or change my mind, nor could I claim what I did was ...
Cool blades of grass tickle my back while I lay gazing at the clouds, remembering the images created in my mind as a child. The soft rustle of leaves in the summer breeze, smells of a fresh cut lawn lingering long after the mower is stored away. The steady hum of bike tires racing across hot pavement.This is so much better than balancing numbers, filing taxes, and paying bills.Why, I wonder did I stop seeing images forming in the sky, how have I ignored the beauty of nature that lay before me? Better yet, the question should be when had this...
Weekly Contest #260
"Daddy, I'm broken." A phone call at two in the morning, and those words crying out in the dark are the reason I am on this flight. I went to find my daughter, my little girl.It wasn't easy, but she was coherent enough to give me directions, and from her history I can now go to any city and know where to find her. It's usually where they all hang out.That was five days ago, I am now on another flight, returning home.Sitting in silence, there is only one other person in the row, and he isn't much of a talker. Leaning back in my chair I stare ...
The drive home from the hospital is quiet, I always pictured this day differently. We have so much to say but keep the thoughts to ourselves, as if it is taboo to speak. I want to say something and nearly do, but when I glance at her she is looking elsewhere.So, I drive on. Knuckles white as they grip the wheel, I watch as raindrops dance across the windshield, flying away free in the wind with each push of the wipers. The steady squeak of rubber on glass has a hypnotic tone that echoes with-in the hollowness of the car.I finally break the s...
Weekly Contest #240
The drive home seemed long, longer than it should have been, considering the distance hadn’t changed. With a hand stretched out the window I surf the wind, the hairs on my arm tingle as the cool air slips through my fingers, like faded memories we can no longer hold.I rolled the window down because she always loved sticking her head out. Mouth open, tongue out enjoying the invisible force as it tussles her fur in a frenzied playful way. I’m just guessing, in truth I do not know why she enjoys it so much. Today she didn’t lift her head, but I...
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