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Weekly Contest #273
Dear Book, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. We’ve been on four dates in the last two weeks. Four and a half, if you count our miracle of a meet-cute at the library. But it’s all about to implode. I can feel it. Earlier today, we went to a place called “What’s A Burger Between Friends?” (“What’s A Burger?” for short—ridiculous name, I know.) God, I was so nervous. If I could still sweat, I would have sweated right through my shirt and my jumper. One of the few perks of being dead, I suppose—no more sweat. I c...
Weekly Contest #196
On the night of her last disappearance, the Aurora was bright. The snow was stale and the blue bird songs of summer had drifted into memory. It was quiet and cold, completely still. The air smelled like sleep and frosted winter windows. She stood in the doorway of the cottage for a long time, facing the shadowy corners of her youth. The moonlight reflecting off the snow behind her cast a feeble blue light through the open doorway, obstructed in the middle by her warped silhouette. She thought she should feel sad to be leaving, but the sadnes...
Weekly Contest #157
A pale orange square-handled coffee mug sat on the counter in front of Nina as she sketched, completely oblivious to the din of the diner. “One slice of cherry pie, fresh out of the oven,” said Jess, the pregnant 32-year-old server. She placed a speckled blue plate with a slice of sweet, steaming pie on the counter. “I didn’t order that,” said Nina, not bothering to look up from her sketchbook. Despite being almost forty, she spoke with the tone of a teenager. “Eat it. It’s on the house,” said Jess, a hint of motherly irritati...
Weekly Contest #155
Only one person knew about the antlered woman living in the roundabout. But they didn’t know quite yet, and she didn’t quite live there, exactly. She just visited every night, sitting with her back against the circle of sad pine trees, watching the people of earth revolve around her like self-absorbed planets or silly little yo-yos on invisible strings. The woman wasn’t from here. She could have been, I suppose, but she probably wasn’t. A month ago (according to some), the woman was wandering her maze of glacial caves with her ...
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