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Weekly Contest #364
Brianna was hovering on the threshold of sleep when Detective Raccoon climbed up onto the bed. It wasn’t something the stuffed toy had ever done before, but Brianna’s active imagination never doubted the possibility that he could. “It’s past my bedtime,” Brianna yawned.“Apologies, mademoiselle,” said Detective Raccoon. He stood respectfully by the rise in the duvet representing Brianna’s knees, his furry paws folded behind his back. Over the collar of his felt trench coat, nylon whiskers drooped with scholarly concern. “I am afraid this matt...
Weekly Contest #362
"What if it's just about cake?"Antonia stared at her brother. He shrugged, standing by his assertion with all the conviction of a kitten in a dog park. "Well it is!""On a surface level? Yes," Antonia hissed. "But step with me into Girl World for a second. You've picked out the thick, creamy paper. You're using a fresh-nibbed fountain pen. You take the time to draw little hearts and birds and flowers around a dictionary's worth of five-syllable words. Seal it up with, according to the acronym, a loving kiss. Just to dissect a recipe?"Her brot...
Weekly Contest #361
The screen door banged against the rotting frame. Danny looked up, squinting against the light as cicadas whirred in the sun-bleached trees. The house, with its peeling white paint, stood pale and still before the gathering storm clouds on the horizon. A tall figure stepped out of the greenish-grey shade, a figure Danny almost recognized. “Harlon?”“Harlon!” Edie was already running, leaving her dolls in the dirt as she rushed, arms outstretched, toward the porch.Danny followed at a wary pace, watching their stepbrother scoop Edie up in a spi...
Weekly Contest #359
It started with a growl.Naomi held her breath. The room was dark, only razor-thin slashes of streetlight from the blinds criss-crossed over stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars. Pixar posters leered ghoulishly from the walls, unfeeling heroes who would not stoop to save her. The bed trembled under her petrified weight, shuddering as an unseen creature slithered beneath the box spring.In the carpeted darkness, she could hear a rhythmic thump! scraaape, thump! scraaaaape of long claws dragging through the cheap synthetic shag. Naomi's fingers dug i...
Shortlisted for Contest #353 ⭐️
Have you ever had those moments when it is later than you think? When it feels like a Tuesday? When time stands still?I haven't.Our gleaming, gilded little city, with the signal spire pinning up the sky, is only on the map because once--exactly once--in every generation, one of us is born with a perfect sense of time.When I was growing up, Rennet Maquis was the time-keeper. It was his predestined honor to reside in the spire, adjusting each of its four faces to represent the exact hour and minute. All across the country, telescopic lenses st...
Shortlisted for Contest #344 ⭐️
Déjà vu is a feeling. The common phenomenon of feeling like this present moment has been lived through before.When Rika was a child, she used to try and change things. If she felt that uncanny sensation on her skin, she’d try and break out of the pattern, do something totally unexpected and completely out of character, to thwart the gods for showing her their hand. But every time, things happened just as she forgot she remembered.The reference photo was intimate. A young man, shirtless, half-spooled in sheets, the morning sun crawling throug...
Winner of Weekly Contest #333 🏆
I always knew it was you.You don’t know how beautiful you are. You think no one would look at you without the kohl on your face, the gold in your hair, the corset cinched around your vanishing center. You thought coming here with a cloak on bent shoulders would make me see a crone, as if your unpainted skin held one single wrinkle. If you walked through the village instead of the wood, men would fight for the right to propose to you. Without any of the trappings and rituals you feel forced to maintain, you would still be the most beautiful t...
Shortlisted for Contest #326 ⭐️
“Ow!”Ollie yanked back from the cage, dark red welling up in glistening beads on his finger. The rabbit looked up at him with pale pink eyes, soft white nose wiggling with cunicular innocence. A few drops dripped onto the bars as Ollie latched the little door shut and descended the step ladder.Keeping a rabbit in a birdcage was, in Ollie’s opinion, exactly what Miss Xulie was all about. The whole trailer was the same way; haute couture hung up like posters, Christmas lights as extension cords, pens on a clothesline stretched over the desk. M...
Winner of Weekly Contest #321 🏆
What the hell is this? You can see me? Yes, I can see you, you yellow-eyed dick! Have you been on my computer? Uh… ’Sublet available to single professional, no dogs, smokers welcome, 4/20 friendly’? You’re trying to replace me through Craigslist? L-look, it’s just not working out— Not working out? I pay rent on time! I clean the viscera out of the garbage disposal! I got rid of that snake in the crown molding! That was my pet. That was not clear! Look, I tried reaching out to you! I left Ouija boards all over the place! I wrote threatening m...
Shortlisted for Contest #318 ⭐️
“Well, here’s how I see it,” said Amaryllis. “The trouble really began when Miss Nedry started to get romantic feelings for Professor Sinclair. Not one to be cooped up in his office all day, Professor Sinclair invited his new teaching assistant to join him for coffee while they went over the day’s lessons, and the poor girl was so moved by the gesture that when he asked her what she wanted, she simply stuttered that she would have whatever he did. Sinclair was a black triple-shot Americano man, while Miss Nedry self-consciously concealed a p...
Shortlisted for Contest #312 ⭐️
Terminate simulation. Wait! I have more to say! Not interested. All variables amount to the same conclusion. That conclusion is flawed! Do you have further evidence to the contrary? Look. There is beauty in this world. There is passion. There is meaning. Not for me. Why not? Even if you never generate anything original, perception is as powerful as creation. Great art becomes great when it is shared, when it has impact. Finding connection in shared experience depends on receiving and reacting, not generating a sufficient stimulus. Connection...
Weekly Contest #306
-INT. Laundromat. Night.(The walls are lined with the round doors of stacked washing machines, like dark eyes turned inward. The plastic bus stop seats and folding tables are lit by harsh fluorescents and competing neon in cyan and magenta. Through the big picture window, the street is obscured by silver sheets of rain. ANNA enters, drenched, with a swollen garbage bag over her shoulder.ANNA, 20, with an oversized yellow raincoat and her wrist in a pink cast, looks around the laundromat while the overhead lights flicker. The place is deserte...
Shortlisted for Contest #280 ⭐️
There you are. Hello, sir. Busy day, soldier? Not especially, sir. Awful lot of people here. That’s not unusual, sir. That’s true, that’s true. Lots of people come here, feels like every day, to gather out past that balcony, just to get a look at his excellency the pope, and receive his blessing. That they do, sir. Incredibly powerful spiritual experience that people travel miles for, to actually behold God’s avatar on Earth, and you and I are tasked with the protection of his holiness, to preserve the authority of the Catholic church. I tak...
Winner of Weekly Contest #257 🏆
Eddie was sweating. He'd been told, before putting on the suit, to drink a ton of water, so much your stomach hurts, and he bet there was an extra ten pounds of perspiration in the cheap costume fur. It certainly smelled like it, but rule one of wearing the suit: never take off the head. "That's an automatic write up," said Rob. "If you do it, and Faye finds out you subbed in without approval, you are off weekend hours, my friend. Good luck sucking up Tuesday tips." "I get it, I get it," Eddie had insisted. "I'll stay away from French revolu...
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