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Weekly Contest #362
For Grandma Jean. You gave me a safe place to play. --- Vera Davis sat alone at a table for two. She scooped up a bite of her cheesy potato casserole — a childhood favorite her mother used to make on special occasions — and let it linger on her tongue, eyes closed. She imagined her mother, youthful and frail, wiping her hands on her apron and smiling down at her with curiosity. It was as if she was still a small girl, fidgeting with her Sunday dress, tasting it for the first time. At eighty-six, Vera’s hands no longer held her fork without...
Weekly Contest #360
Trigger Warning: Gun violence, fear and terror, political themes The lawn is yellowed with neglect—freshly cut and straw-like. Someone could drop a lit cigarette and all of the Capitol grounds would go up in flames. Thank god there’s snow in the forecast. I make my way east and settle on the Pregnant Eagle Benches, just outside the north end of the Library of Congress. It’s fucking cold out, so I tighten the scarf around my neck and pull my beanie completely over my ears. The street noise muffles. I like this spot for reading and people-wa...
Weekly Contest #330
CW: Grief, illness, death It left a bitter taste in his mouth. There was nothing worse than over-extracted coffee, when you drank it dark. Micah pulled a stick of gum out of his bag and popped it in his mouth. From behind, he heard an earnest "tell Jacob hi for me!" He turned and glared at the barista, who waved him on as he tossed his nearly-full to-go cup into the trash and exited the cafe. A burst of peppermint hit his throat as he took in the chill of Seattle winter. Fifteenth and Thomas had the best shops, he thought, and the best peo...
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