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Weekly Contest #84
The sun is always setting these days. Dolores feels as if she is perched on a precipice in her rocking chair, the world below staggering in and out of view, all of it awash in a brilliant red. The date is lost to her, as is the time, and she grasps for any indication that the world is still turning. Hermione comes in at irregular intervals. The little girl has grown tall and slender and has shaved her hair off. Dolores longs to run her fingers over the fuzz that reminds her of Rick. How long has it been since she saw her husband? He hasn’t...
Weekly Contest #52
I was shaking when I made the closing announcement for the store. Repetition over the year since I transferred here held my voice steady while I spoke into the phone, listening to my words echo back at me over the PA system as I politely told the customers to get the hell out so we could close. I couldn't see the sales floor from the office unless I stood nose to the door at the peep hole and watched the distorted three feet directly in front of it, so I stayed in my office chair and turned the heavy black receiver over in my hand, watching ...
Weekly Contest #51
Escaping the hag’s house should’ve been the best thing to ever happen to us. The wealth we'd stolen from the dead witch was enough to keep us from starving while our neighbors turned skeletal and withered into their early graves. We ate porridge and bread instead of rats and each other, and the three of us were happy, but at night I still woke up soaked to the bone with sweat and tears."I'm so sorry my darlings," my father cried when we got home to him, but a year later his tune changed. "I said I was sorry," he'd grumble when I refused to h...
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