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Weekly Contest #168
This story contains graphic depictions of battlefield gore and disturbing images. Theo's breath fogged up the window. The frost that clung to the class sprawled along its surface in crystal patterns that resembled those stitched into the ornate rug on the floor of his father's bureau. It was cold on the train—a sort of chill that numbs, that seeps into one's bones and takes a firm grip. Theo's muscles felt tight. He huddled deeper into the embrace of his tweed jacket; it brought him little warmth, but he seized whatever respite from the c...
Weekly Contest #162
Nestled deep in the heart of the woods was a cedar tree. The cedar was not just any tree, of course. For if this were an ordinary tree, it would not fill the air with the most beautiful song in the purple minutes of twilight. Traders and merchants and royals and peasants came from far and wide, from kingdoms all across the realm, to be graced by its sweet singing. The singing tree was a beacon of light amongst a sullen forest. Even its branches, green as a lifetime of dewy spring morns, outshone those of every tree in the woods. Its trunk...
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