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Submitted to Contest #283
Sherrie sat in the employee cafeteria on a hard plastic chair, unwrapping a soggy tuna sandwich — one that she had no appetite for whatsoever. She gave a deep sigh, before admitting defeat and returning the sandwich to its cellophane wrapper. She couldn’t eat it. Her stomach was in knots. Her physical state mirrored her emotions. She was despondent and stuck in a funk. She hadn’t heard from her boyfriend all week. That was highly unusual. Not only did they work in the same building, but they also ate lunch together everyday in this very...
Submitted to Contest #276
I have always believed that holidays have colors. Thanksgiving, which is rapidly approaching, is a bright yellow, vibrant orange, deep green, rich brown, and sometimes a muted gold – the colors of vegetables spilling out of a cornucopia, also known as a “horn of plenty.” The colors are many and varied, but they are all in the autumnal family. The colors are reflected in my Thanksgiving decorations. These are the things I pull out every year in late October/early November – my yellow patterned tablecloth with turkeys on it, a welcome mat...
Submitted to Contest #275
“I think we should have a seance,” Amber said.“What’s that?” I asked uneasily.“It’s where you talk to dead people, to ghosts,” she replied.“Talk to ghosts?” My voice shook.“Yeah,” Courtney chimed in. “Sleepovers are the best time to talk to spirits. The spirits are more receptive late at night. I hear midnight’s the best time. And it’s almost midnight now.”“Yeah,” Amber giggled. “And we can’t talk about boys all night.”“Why not?” I tried to keep my voice light. I would much rather talk about boys than talk to ghosts, even if boys make m...
Submitted to Contest #274
On a day when the calendar slipped from late summer to early fall, I went to an art exhibit in my hometown. The exhibit was held in a grand mansion which was converted to an Arts Center. The historic old house, bequeathed to the city by a generous benefactor for cultural purposes, had floor to ceiling vaulted windows overlooking the rolling, immense waters of Lake Michigan. It was very windy that day, and the waves crashed into the rocks dotting the shoreline, sending a spray of water into the air. The turbulence in the air changed the water...
Submitted to Contest #271
Cal and Sherrie were seated at a high top table at their favorite restaurant. They both liked eating there for different reasons. Cal liked the place because, in addition to having his favorite gooey cheese curds and chicken wings with just the right spice, it also was a sports bar. Everywhere he looked, there were large screen TVs, showing the games of all of his favorite teams. The atmosphere was loud and raucous. He could cheer or boo along with fellow rowdy fans. After a long and difficult work week, it was a relief to let off some ...
Submitted to Contest #270
I have a picture on my kitchen wall that talks to me and tells me stories. It shows a horse and buggy with its faceless driver traveling down cobblestoned streets. The picture appears repeatedly on my patterned gold wallpaper. At first when I heard it talk, early one morning, I thought I was going crazy, or was not yet awake and still dreaming. I live in my grandparents’ house, a house that my carpenter grandfather built long ago. Grandma would be 112 years old if she were alive today. My grandfather was slightly older than her.&nb...
Submitted to Contest #268
At the church that day, I had the strangest sense of déjà vu, like I had surely been there before although I don’t remember exactly when. I almost felt like I was in a dream, or as if I had been teleported there, time traveling or something. Everything felt surreal. I could hear the organ playing the bridal chorus. Here comes the Bride, all dressed in white. And the bride was me. I was there to get married. I could picture everyone sitting in the pews, bride's side on the left, groom’s side on the right. Everyone was expectantly waiting...
Submitted to Contest #267
Cal plunked down on one of the many plastic chairs in the employee cafeteria, setting his cellophane wrapped hamburger, fries, and can of soda carefully in front of him. Eating lunch was the highlight of his day. Lunch was a mere thirty minutes long, but it was thirty minutes to himself, with no demands and cranky customers calling him. Be careful what you wish for, he thought wearily. A few scant months ago, he would have done anything, paid any price, to lead such a boring, humdrum life. At that time, he was at death’s door, finding himsel...
Submitted to Contest #264
Rhett Butler had received a message from Belle Watling. It came to him through a young errand boy, a thin freed boy of mixed race who was paid to sweep up and empty ashtrays at Belle’s house of ill repute. The boy stood outside the study at Rhett and Scarlett’s house and threw pebbles at the etched glass window panes. When at last Rhett opened the heavy windows, threw up the sash, and looked outside, the boy darted over and dropped in Rhett’s hand a note written on Belle’s distinctive stationery, the embossed B and W at the top of the t...
Submitted to Contest #262
“Hear ye! Hear ye! Your attention please!” The official kingdom crier stood at the front of the room, dressed from head to toe in the palace’s royal colors of purple and yellow. All eyes were upon him. No one spoke or moved. Everyone was simply too hot to do much of anything. The large gathering hall, used for meetings with dignitaries and the kingdom’s royal subjects, was particularly stifling. Although it had a high, vaulted ceiling, the room was airless due to thick gray stone walls that heated up like an oven. Moreover, the room’s n...
Submitted to Contest #261
I met my boyfriend in prison. Shocking, right? Who would want to date someone who was in the big house? Well, it’s okay. You see, I was in prison too. What did I do, you ask? And what did he do? What crimes did we commit?The answer is simple. None. We worked there. I am writing today, from first hand experience, to say that anyone who works in a prison for a prolonged period of time is an unsung hero. Prisons are dangerous, depressing places. I couldn’t hack it, so I escaped after five years. Yes, I flew the coop. I freed myself af...
Submitted to Contest #259
The restaurant El Centro was now in a new neighborhood. It was no longer, as its name implied, centrally located. The events of the past horrific year had forced it to relocate to a new building on the far southwest side of town. It was now in a cramped storefront that had previously housed a Hungry Head sandwich shop. Business, at first, had been slow, but was now slowly picking up. Every Tuesday morning around ten o’clock, a large group of elderly women took over two large tables, pushed together. There were usually about ten people i...
Submitted to Contest #258
Carol opened the shoebox of old photos, most of them black and white. She felt like she was taking a trip down memory lane, seeing the photos of her family over the years. Growing up in a family of nine children, there weren’t as many photos as one might think. Her parents were not sentimental people. Still, by virtue of having nine children and countless relatives, there were nonetheless a fair amount of pictures.The first picture she glanced at was a hallmark 1970s shot. Her second oldest brother, Bill, had long hair and tight athletic sho...
Submitted to Contest #257
Wisconsin 1861It was several months before Grace received her first letter from Joseph. She knew that it was hard for letters to get through, however. It was one of the many problems of war. She was ashamed to admit that she didn’t know if she had forgiven him for enlisting in the Union Army. While they both agreed that slavery was inherently wrong, it seemed like it happened so far away that it didn’t affect her or anyone she knew. Still, she knew Joseph was a moral, upright man and in good conscience, he couldn’t allow the South to secede ...
Submitted to Contest #256
You cry to me on the phone,Everything’s gone wrong.He’s hurt you,Broken up with you.And you still don’t understand why.You experience the worst painYou’ve ever felt,A stabbing knifeStraight to your still beating heart.No one will ever love you again.No one will ever be as good to youAs he was,But no longer is.What if you never find such aGreat love,Ever again.What then?How did this happen?It’s a mystery and nightmare,Wrapped in oneThrobbing ball of pain.You miss him.He was not only your true love,But alsoYour best friend.What are you going t...
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