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Weekly Contest #52
The extensive interview process concluded the Tuesday after my 32nd birthday. I applied for “Match Made in Mineville” because I’ve had some horrible experiences dating. I had some reservations about being on a reality t.v. show, but Margot hit the “submit” button on the application that time we were drunk off of tequila shots and margaritas after a break up. I panicked at first, but then I thought about it and figured I’d never get chosen. Three weeks later I got the call that I had been selected as one of 300 finalis...
Weekly Contest #51
It was the first day the pier was open since the fire that ravaged the Sea Crest boardwalk 23 years earlier. Although there were so many new faces ready to pour hard earned money into the tourist attractions and beach gear-selling boutiques, dense clouds lingered above as if in warning. It was good to see life in the area, but Samantha couldn’t help but notice many of her neighbors were not present at this grand re-opening. She had been so young when the fire claimed many lives and caused thousands of dollars’ worth of dama...
The majority of the windows faced the parking garage. The garage where my pretty blue car lay in wait. Part of me wanted to claim it. To secure my keys and run, fast as a hummingbird flicks its wings, down one flight of steps, down the hallway, through the open lobby, and up four flights of stairs to where my car waited for me. My fingers curled on the ledge in front of one window. I could leave anytime I wanted. Scrawl my name on yet another dotted line and wait the requisite time, the ward quiet enough t...
Weekly Contest #49
I reach down and smooth my silky red skirt over my thighs so it flares just right and fans out slightly on the bench. I don’t mind wearing something this light during winter if it’s for a good cause. And this is a good cause. It’s cold and the sky is threatening to snow, but there has not been a single flurry. I move my lips into the shape of an “o” and blow out a puff of air. I watch the cloud of warm breath dissipate. In my mind, I’m a statue. Marble, delicate, yet enduring. Michelangelo’s “David” st...
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