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Weekly Contest #347
The sign was pretty freaking clear.Henry, Jake, and I had found an abandoned hunter’s perch in the depths of woods behind our neighborhood. We hung the sign outside the wooden tower, thus claiming it as our own.It would be our hideout, our sanctuary, our Fortress of Solitude as we navigated middle school with its slow growth of personal freedoms and bodily changes that our parents never addressed.We had considered calling it "The Castle for Men,” or “The Mastle” for short, but it didn’t stick. “The Man Hut” and “The Man Stand” sounded weird,...
Weekly Contest #346
The end is the beginning. “That’s a pretty lame fortune,” Wayne said, tilting back into his chair to reverently crack his own so-called-cookie. Beside him, Chris remained transfixed on the dessert-fortune pinched between his fingers. His mind ran over the sacred implications as if it was an ancient holy papyrus. There has to be more to it, he thought, as he flipped over the strip of paper. 春卷 (chūn juǎn) Egg Roll. 四 (sì) Four. Not helpful. Also, he’d opted for Crab Rangoon. The end… He chewed over the words. He felt a gnawin...
Weekly Contest #343
Steve Pritchard laid across his therapist’s couch even though Dr. Hollingsworth had pointed out that lying on the couch wasn’t the expectation in therapy anymore. And the couch was actually a love seat. And really, it made him uncomfortable staring at the back of his patient’s head. Still, Steve insisted, and his session continued. “I realized, doc, that if I want to be able to do things with my kids, I need to take control.” “That’s admirable, Steven,” Dr. Hollingsworth said, absent-mindedly doodling in his notebook. “Just Steve.” “And how...
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