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Weekly Contest #368
“Ah, Jaysus. Where in the name of all wee folk am I?”Morcant shoved against something soft, then something hard. Darkness pressed in on every side, so thick he had to spark the glimmer residue on his fingertips to see. Then the dreadful truth struck him.He was still inside the manling’s suitcase.“Oh, me lord. Sorcha is not going to like this. Not one bit.”It hadn’t seemed a terrible idea at the time. Morcant had only meant to creep closer to the manling and frighten him properly for disrespecting ground older than his bloodline. Then there h...
Weekly Contest #367
Ugly Harry spent most of his life on two wheels, a cue in his hand and money on the table. In 1954, pool hustlers relied on colorful nicknames like Weenie Beanie or Detroit Whitey, and somewhere along the way Ugly Harry earned his name. Brown leather jacket. Narrow-collared shirt. A little flash on his belt buckle. A hooked nose that gave his face a permanent look of suspicion. He was a man who spent his nights in pool halls, bars, and roadside diners, always chasing something. Money. Trouble. Sometimes at once. It didn’t matter whether he w...
Weekly Contest #366
Mira Gregory had been at her new job for less than an hour when she noticed the law office was quieter than it should have been. Phones still rang. Printers hummed. Yet beneath the ordinary rhythm, a strange silence lingered. Conversations paused as she passed. She caught people looking when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. Mira always paid attention. Friends called it a gift or intuition, but she said it was simply a knack for noticing what others overlooked.“It’s the dress,” she thought. Johnathon Sligh hired Mira before the memor...
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