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Weekly Contest #340
CROSSPURPOSES TACOHer eyes caught the light from the dining room hallway and glowed red. I startled before remembering the barrier between us—for she on the patio, and I was inside the house. The screen was open to the night air, cool and fragrant, desert breezes carrying the faint sweetness of far‑off, night‑blooming cacti to my paws.“Let me in,” she growled. The rumble was low, but the voice behind it was high and sharp. Fear prickled my spine, and I hid it by lifting my head a little higher.“NO,” I yipped. “I am the protector of this do...
Weekly Contest #339
Roses for Remembrance “If you wanted my opinion,” Meredith said, “this is a whole bunch of woo-woo nuts-and-berries nonsense. What is she going to do next—shake a rattle over your grandmother’s head and chant?” “You promised you’d try,” April replied. “It can’t hurt. At worst, nothing happens.” Meredith tightened her grip on the steering wheel. April was right, and that somehow made it worse. Meredith had spent her entire adult life being the one who noticed things early—the unpaid bill, the loose stair, the subtle shift in tone that meant ...
Weekly Contest #338
OVER THE HEART Mother Jasper lifted the book reverently from the shelf and paged through it with care. A faint, moldy scent drifted from the turning pages, the movement disturbing dust motes floating in the thin shaft of light that slipped through the gap where the heavy curtains didn’t quite meet.“Let’s see what I have,” she murmured.Mary hadn’t expected the harsh Inner City accent, nor the fact that Mother Jasper was probably her own age—or younger. She didn’t know what she had expected a fortune teller to look like, but this wasn’t it. S...
Weekly Contest #337
He was already at the coffee shop when I entered. In spite of never having met him before, I knew it was he instantly. There was an uncanny sense of looking in a mirror, of seeing myself but with a different hairstyle. He must have had the same sense, because he stood as soon as I walked in and reached out his hand. “Michael Winston,” he said, a small shake in his voice. “Elizabeth Alston,” I replied, feeling the sweaty grip of his hand. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked. I nodded, and he went to the counter. I don’t even know why I...
Weekly Contest #277
I was born a prince. While I may not look impressive now, it doesn’t matter, as I was the 12th child of His Royal Majesty and too distant from the throne to ever aspire to the crown. I found joy in playing by the pond in the castle garden and listening to the stories told by the Jesters during the breaks between banquets. Being the youngest, my presence often went unnoticed. Although not necessarily shy, I felt more at ease with my thoughts than with the empty flattery of banquet conversations. My own thoughts were my preferred companions, a...
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