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Weekly Contest #293
By the time Cousin Nicky got to Lakeview Clubhouse, Annemarie had already decided our mom’s wake was a disaster. She regretted letting Terese bring the food—spaghetti, canned soup, and a wilted salad—and the slideshow on the projector wouldn’t play any music. Now Nicky had shown up two hours late in his new work uniform. After ducking his way to our table, Nicky hugged me. “Sorry, I’m late.” “Interesting choice,” I said. “What is?” he asked, removing his lab coat. “The white coat.” “I came straight from the pharmacy, I forgot—” “The wh...
I. On the third bench near a large, illuminated clock in the Santa Ana train station, Elora’s elbow slipped off her knee and dropped her tired head. She sat up fast, her hand moving from her chin to the back of her neck as she tried to gather her bearings. It wasn’t like her to fall asleep in public—it wasn’t like her to sleep at all. This was probably the most she’d dozed off in over two days, and judging by her still-illuminated phone, which was struggling to load answers to her search “memory loss from melatonin” on one bar of signal, it...
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