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Weekly Contest #47
You pull the signal cord of the bus and hold the metal rail fiercely as it halts, sputtering towards the curb. The briefcase in your left-hand swings lightly as you disembark, tipping your cap at the driver who meets your stare through the mirror with a knowing grin. Today felt like a good day. It had rained this weekend and the current Monday skies are cloudy but loose, allowing the sun to break free every few steps like a spotlight over your head and sticking in the gel you raked through your hair. You usually didn’t make such an eff...
Weekly Contest #46
The town is much smaller than it was when I left, but I think to myself that must not be possible. Maybe it is me that is larger and it seems my home has yet to grow with me. Growing up will do that. The years have passed in a flash of late nights, eyes heavy with sleep, editing essays and marking quizzes. I never had a reason to think of college or the part that happens next. The part that children try not to dwell on. Real-life, or so the one where you get to live without the boundaries of anyone else. When I was younger I wa...
The cramps in my fingers and the endless sleepless nights of plotting and rewrites stare towards me where I stand at the end of the tunnel. The happily ever after. Years of writing in misplaced hours while the children played in the yard and Tim worked late, all come together, as the string of excuses as to why I am always so busy detangles. I finally have something to show for all of my work. I called my mother yesterday and she couldn’t wait to tell me how proud the women were at the diner when she and dad went for breakfast....
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