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Weekly Contest #378
My left sock has a hole in it. I can feel the cold floor through it. I’m pretty sure it didn’t have a hole when I put them on this morning. The least of my concerns right now, though. The wool from the winter coat next to me keeps scratching my cheek, and I’ve been holding back a sneeze from the stale air and dust since I crawled back here. Most importantly, I don’t know where he is. The closet I’m crouched in is pitch black, not too different from the rest of the house around it at this hour. I don’t know how he’s getting around in his sear...
Weekly Contest #377
Sensitive content: death and grief; child endangerment; life-threatening danger (fire); mild profanity They built the house crooked. I’ve been telling Jim for weeks that they built the house crooked. Drawers that don’t stay closed, tennis balls rolling by on their own, the can of soup I dropped rolling across the room as I juggle an armful of groceries, a front door that closes way too easily and way too loud and takes way too much work to open way too slowly. Luckily, any neighbors we have are too far away to be bothered by the random slam...
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