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Weekly Contest #187
[Infanticide]The woman squatted near the small brook as she washed the meagre clothes that belonged to her husband and herself. They both had two changes of garments. As she scrubbed the clothes with her scrubbing stone, tears flowed down her cheeks.For the second time in two years, she had lost a baby in childbirth. Or, that is what the midwife told her. The baby had been another girl. Qiao Hui never had a chance to see either baby. Where their bodies were taken, she was never told. She dared not ask. Her grieving had to be in secret.Her hu...
Weekly Contest #186
The old prophet sat just inside the village gate. Shrieks of lasciviousness and absurdity could be heard behind him. They must be starting early tonight, the old man thought to himself. How often he had regretted coming to live in this godforsaken town. He yearned to return to his uncle in the rolling pasture lands – but he had made his choice. As he pondered his fate and murmured an unintelligible prayer heavenward, two men entered the village through the main town gate. They were only a few feet from where the old prophet sat. Imme...
Weekly Contest #181
“This doesn’t feel right, Mac.” “Look – another cigarette butt!” Deputy Mac Sanders retrieved a half-smoked cigarette from the brush. The other deputy shined a quavering flashlight on the butt pinched between Mac’s index finger and thumb. “Yep, it’s a Lucky Strike … half smoked,” Mac said with a grin. “It’s our man.” “I think we need some back-up,” Deputy Skip Conway r...
Weekly Contest #169
The three Simms children were littered across their home’s front porch like discarded rag dolls. Their two-story home was one of the 100-year-old buildings that was situated around the town square. In the middle of the square was the red brick courthouse which was the county’s most beautiful building and most expensive asset. The oldest child, Brett, was throwing a baseball up into the air and catching it as he lay on his back. He was 11 years old. Sandra, the second oldest, was swinging in the porch swing with her head propped on her ha...
Just being a United States citizen on Russian soil is enough to make a koala bear edgy. Being a CIA agent in Moscow at the culmination of a mission is nerve popping. At this moment, Koala’s nerve axons could be plucked like banjo strings. Yeah, the agent’s code name is Koala – a United States’ CIA veteran sleeper agent planted in Moscow. Get it? Koalas are the animals that sleep the most … sleeper agent. Keep up. We’re going to have to move quickly to stay ahead of the shadowy figure who is following Agent K. (For security reasons, no real...
Weekly Contest #168
[death] “Lev, you know we love your writing,” Mikhail Katkov said to the incensed writer. “But the last installment of your novel is a catastrophe.” Lev sat with folded arms across his chest. If he spoke, he knew that all hell would shake the corridors of the Herald. “My wife believes it is a great novel,” Lev finally said through clenched teeth. “Naturally your wife would say that … she’s your wife. Lev, I’m giving you my honest gut opinion – you will be laughed out of the country or stoned if we publish this.” The publisher ...
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