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Weekly Contest #319
PrologueI’ve never been a man’s first choice. Not once. Not ever.It started early. Boys at school preferred my friends—the mysterious, easy girls with bubbly personalities, designer clothing, and candy-sweet perfume. Teachers complimented my intelligence, my neat handwriting, my “kind spirit,” but never my looks.By the time I hit high school, I understood the rules: good girls don’t get chosen. They wait in the shadows. They smile while others are celebrated. They clean up after everyone else’s mistakes—and they’re grateful to do it.I rememb...
Weekly Contest #317
The room was colder than expected, the basement lights were harsh and too white, buzzing with the steady hum of tired fluorescent tubes. They hummed faintly above the lone metal desk. I adjusted the chair, the steel scraping against concrete and sat down. The man from Records hadn’t stayed long—just dropped the thick beige folder onto the desk and muttered something about “not everything belongs in daylight” before he left.The folder was marked CLASSIFIED / CONFIDENTIAL, stamped in red across its face. The weight of the folder sat between my...
Weekly Contest #65
It was a rare thing to see two women digging in the same garbage can at the same time. Rare and almost impossible to do, but there they were, on a very important mission. Like their lives depended on it, because it did. In the back alley of the market place, next to the big drain that overflows every time rain fell, Flamingo and Trix were searching for their next meal. “We should sleep in Tunapuna cemetery tonight. The food there will be a feast you never had,” Flamingo said to Trix. She pulled out a banana peel and peered into the empty ...
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