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Submitted to Contest #288
As the sea tosses the Odyssey between its mountainous waves like a ping-pong ball, it's all I can do to keep one hand on the rudder. She's in bad shape, and I'm not much better. Ugly, purple-blue bruises stain my arms and sides from the amount of times I've been thrown against the edge of the boat. With wind stinging me with its spiteful embrace, and rain blurring my vision like tears, I can hardly see a foot in front of me. Although it wouldn't be much if I could; the whole ocean from the waves ahead the Odyssey to the horizon is frothed up...
Submitted to Contest #264
After the wedding banquet, the new queen's favoured servant – Kara, a woman of thirty-six wearing black satin and a string of pearls – approached her and whispered in her ear, “Your Majesty, a storyteller has requested to be allowed the honour of entertaining you with a tale.” The queen gave a gracious nod. As her servant disappeared to fetch the storyteller, she turned to her husband and told him that she had arranged some entertainment for them. The area was lit only by candles, and by the light of the silver moon that shone down on the fa...
Submitted to Contest #248
I would lay flowers on the grave, if I could. You would like that, wouldn't you? You might be a little surprised... but you shouldn't be. You know I'll always put all my effort into making you happy.And that's why it happened, isn't it?I'm standing by the willow that lies by the grave, talking to you. I know you can't hear me, but I'm talking anyway. Besides, it sometimes feels as if you can hear me. The wind in the willow sends whispers that remind me of you. They sound like your voice. I wish I could hear it one more time – maybe I'll have...
Submitted to Contest #247
Sakura whirled round at the sound of familiar footsteps, to see her closest friend, Yuto, running towards her – chased by the Restriction, which were only a few metres behind him. She opened her mouth to say something before realising that what she wanted to ask, What's happening? – or more accurately, Why are they trying to get you? – wasn't one of her speech options. She made do with a surprised open of her eyes accompanied by a questioning raise of her eyebrows.Thankfully, Yuto understood what she was trying to say. He pointed to his mout...
Submitted to Contest #246
Ellie rocked slowly on her chair, arms wrapped around her raised knees. She stared at the material of her jeans, muttering in an attempt to comfort herself. “It's okay, it's okay. You're in the middle of nowhere. No-one's going to introduce themselves out here. You know the postman, and Hope's coming over later. It's okay, it's okay.” A knock on the door. She froze. No. It couldn't be anyone new. There was no-one within miles of her. It must be Ned, the postman. She brushed her auburn hair out of her face. Breathing slowly, she stood up, and...
Submitted to Contest #245
Artemis was bathing in her favourite pool with her dryad friends, when Apollo appeared. Though the temporarily blinding flash of light that came with his arrival was nothing new to Apollo's twin sister, or her nymphs, it still took them a moment to regain their sight. Recovering, they discovered Apollo already before them, shielding his eyes, as well as Aphrodite, who was looking oddly smug. Apollo's hand was over the eyes of young Hermes, his brother.Artemis sighed, and ushered the dryads out of the pool and into their respective trees. Ent...
Coco jetted through the doors just as they closed behind the applicants. She breathed a sigh of relief that accidentally blew small bubbles into the faces of the other candidates. It would have been a disaster if she'd been even one second later. For the whole of her four-month life, she had been studying and practising for this interview. She imagined how angry her parents would be with her if she'd been stuck outside of those doors. They were always chiding her on her oversleeping and constantly giving her advice, despite how much she insi...
Submitted to Contest #243
21st June 2000 The setting sun cast its last rays onto the orange, patternless curtains that shimmered and rustled like falling leaves on a dry autumn day. Izzy sat on the floor of her bedroom, drawing next to her sunshine-decorated bed. Her tongue stuck out as she wriggled to lie on her front on the grey carpet, swinging her legs, scribbling her future on a plain piece of paper. Her crayon flew over the blank slate, creating a wilderness of colours and patterns. Mumbling unintelligibly to herself as she worked, she stopped every few seconds...
Submitted to Contest #242
If only I could escape from this endless portrait of monotony. I cannot stand it much longer. But before I continue, I believe an explanation is in order. Before I was as I am now, a me— character in this painting, I was a half-finished shape, complete only in imagination. Before that,— was a single stroke of a brush, and before even that I was only an idea, full of potential. I was most beautiful as an idea, for the human mind is not bound in images. The chess-board in front of me seems to gloat, and for a moment I feel that its owner gloat...
I've never met a single person in The Painted Leopard that isn't truly successful. Actors, authors, speedboat salesmen – millionaires, every one of them. Now, don't think I'm boasting because that place used to be my local haunt – all I'm doing is stating a fact.I interrupt the conversation I'm having with Molly, a friend of mine – nice girl, Molly – to knock on the table for the barman. The man's a good guy; I've known him for years. Trustable type, even if he doesn't speak much. Or smile much, when I think about it.He glides over and looks...
Submitted to Contest #240
As the sea tosses the Odyssey between its mountainous waves like a ping-pong ball, it's all I can do to keep one hand on the rudder. She's in bad shape, and I'm not much better. Ugly purple-blue bruises stain my arms and sides from the amount of times I've been thrown against the edge of the boat. With wind stinging my face in its spiteful embrace, and rain blurring my vision like tears, I can hardly see a foot in front of me. Although it wouldn't be much if I could; the whole ocean from the waves in front of the Odyssey to the horizon is fr...
Love of a daughter heals the loss of a sun, she once heard it said. She agrees with it, in her own way – love of her daughter cured, although she rejects the term 'cured', her unceasing love of the stars and moon. The sun, she had never been able to love the way she had the night sky, though she always appreciated its beauty.Grace, her friends call her. But she has another, a secret name. Since her eighteenth birthday she's kept it, loved and cherished it as if she had been born to it, though she never tell another what it was.Her husband, s...
Submitted to Contest #238
The park was quiet, with only one or two people passing Lana on occasion as she sat on a small wooden bench and re-read her favourite book for the fifteenth time. Sometimes she looked up as something in the book made her want to stop and think, idly staring without seeing at the gravel path, dewy grass or sparsely-grown birch trees in front of her. The only sound came from the courting song thrushes singing their sweet tunes high up in the branches of the trees, and the soft thump of footsteps of people enjoying a leisurely walk in the thoug...
I closed my eyes, and jumped into the wormhole. Slowly, I lifted my eyelids and looked around to see where I was. A mountain, the four golden towers of the palace with its responsibilities and burdens nowhere in sight. Oak trees filled the mountain-base, dipping into flatlands and not rising again until the range of hills in the distance. My mind floated, aware that I was somewhere at last where I didn't have to hide myself. There was something odd about the setting, but I let it go, not wanting to ruin the moment. I twisted, and searched th...
Submitted to Contest #237
"So, who do you think your 100 will be?" Dorro leant over the back of the sofa and whispered into her room-mate's ear. Her casual dress rustled against the sofa's fabric. Lana batted her off with a gentle laugh, not taking her eyes off the wall-clock as it ticked its way to 12:00. "How many times have you asked already?" "I know, I know, but you're getting your list today. They might ask you what kind of man you would prefer to marry." "It's not the 90s, Dorro," Lana said with an indulgent smile. The second hand of the clock seemed to have w...
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