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Weekly Contest #95
The detective stood at the desk, motionless. Mick sat across from him in the only chair, equally still. It was like being in a play, waiting for the first line to be spoken. "I should leave," Mick thought. But it wasn't in him. He'd made his choice. He'd seen two doors, the Waiting Room on the right and Interrogation, on the left. In a fit of bravado, he'd chosen the door on the left. Or maybe it was less bravado than the fear of what sleep might bring. A desk and a chair were the only pieces of furniture. Photographs of cops in ...
Weekly Contest #94
Ellis solemnly took in the news, because that's all there was anyway. Talking heads and scrolling words were everywhere on his phone. Other people on the bus were also sitting up, staring tensely at their screens, transformed from their usual bored commuting selves. The talking heads on his phone were not only everywhere, they were different. They looked scared. The man his mother hated, the one with the fake hair, was openly crying. Another notoriously upright pundit seemed to be taking a thoughtful drag now and then on ...
Weekly Contest #59
Ninety days ago I was Revoked. It was in a fast food place, at lunchtime. The com implant in my forearm made the universally dreaded "uh oh" noise and its whole face lit up and turned hard candy orange. Notification bells went off all around me. Suddenly, everyone was checking their own comms to see the latest Revocation Announcement. ("Watch for Orange Near You!") In the next moment I had this under-the-microscope sensation as everyone identified me . . .and abruptly stopped acknowledging my existence. There I was,...
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