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Weekly Contest #372
Berlin 1880 When I arrived in Berlin to visit my old friend, Doctor Nathan Nauendorf, he had failed to warn me of the particulars of his work. Work which I quietly disdained. It was his fervor that vexed me. In his many insistent letters, he had informed me that Germany would be cold during that season. This, at least, had borne no exaggeration. The December frost had settled so deeply that even the carriages slowed to a grind. Though I had been warned, it had lodged within my marrow. The night train had left my legs stiff, and I was quite ...
Weekly Contest #367
Delete history Ask anything…Can I feed my dog trail mix? >Feeding your dog trail mix is unhealthy and can even be dangerous. Here are a few reasons why it would be harmful to your pet– High sugar content. Sugar content can be as high as 25 grams per serving. While sugar isn’t toxic to dogs, it is extremely unhealthy. May contain chocolate or raisins, both of which are toxic to dogs. I do not recommend feeding your dog trail mix, and if ingestion occurred, please contact poison control straight away. Seek expert support. 1-800-222-1222 Ask a...
Weekly Contest #341
Visual Voicemail 0:19 02/18/2019 Hey babe... I haven’t heard from you today. I just wanted to know if everything was okay?... *Sigh* I don’t want to be upset, but how could you forget— *Background noise of laughter.* Just shoot me a call when you can. Log 1: 5 Months Stage 2: Panic Attacks and Hallucinations 05/11/2020 Notes: *Symptoms beginning to worsen. Sleep comes sporadically for approximately 2-3 hrs per night. *Unable to recall dreams. *Speech and cognitive functions impaired. When I was diagnosed with fatal insomnia, I had already...
Weekly Contest #340
(Journal of Father Angelo) May 18th, written in 1910 When I arrived in Neive, Piedmont, I was uncertain what I might encounter there. The Holy See had provided me with funds and minimal information. I expected plague. Consumption, my believed cause. A sickness of the lungs. The meager report wrote of expulsion of blood and dim pallor. This disease would fall easily within God’s jurisdiction. In tragedies such as these, I minister comforts and prayers to the dying. Neive was a calm place, one I had visited frequently throughout the course of ...
Weekly Contest #85
Her friend spilled a Margarita on her. Mary was never fond of the smell of alcohol. Actually, she downright despised it. Perhaps it was the way it lingered on the breath like sweet spoiled nectar or the lack of coordination thereafter. Either way, the entire ride home she smelled like sour lime and southern Valencia, which now embedded itself in the car seats, no doubt. Why she even agreed to attend that party, she frankly forgot and was too exhausted to care. Tired blue eyes fluttered slightly closed and then open as she gripped the steerin...
Weekly Contest #77
Author's note: This story contains disturbing themes. “There is no Goatman, Peter.” “But I saw it!” “Oh, what have I told you about trying to start a fright? Now please eat your supper. I will hear no more of this nonsense.” Peter’s freckled nose scrunched up at the smell of the porridge. The smell itself was rather bland and faint. Similar to smelling a field of corn about a few blocks away. It had been porridge for weeks now. Bland grits and spotted water from the well. Black particles floated to the top of the yellowish water and slowly ...
Weekly Contest #65
Like me, he was a predator. Holding the silver blade against her neck. Heavy breathing escaping her parted lips. I can see the fear in her eyes. Slash. Blood spilled from the opening in her throat like a red river. Flaps of inflamed skin parted like a toothless smile. I wonder what that was like. The few seconds before death creeps in. I will soon know. I could have saved her. Could even grant her restless spirit revenge if I am so pleased. What difference would it have made? By and by, like all things, her miserable brief life would come t...
Weekly Contest #60
I remember the first moment I saw her… Her beautiful blonde hair glistening in the sunlight. Blue ocean eyes twinkling like diamonds. Well, her beautiful eye… I guess I probably should have mentioned she’s a zombie. Yup, with grey patchy skin, bloodied black nails, and large yellow fangs. Her human days were definitely something in the distant past. The really distant past, but she’s still my girl. Who cares if she has a missing arm and maggots in her eye socket? Love is blind, goddamn it. And if I want to date a zombie, I will do it. I know...
Weekly Contest #59
As a teenager, I realized growing up wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, cliche; I know. It wasn’t so much the work that bothered me but more so, the deep, overwhelming, bitter feeling of loneliness, it crept up on me when I least expected it, and that included the safest place a person can be, their own home. I still remember the moment it happened. Though, admittedly, it is a bit of a blur. Bits and pieces remain of the memory. I think the mind works that way; it chooses what it wants to remember. And often, what remains of painful experie...
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