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Weekly Contest #42
It has been 90 days since my son came home. It's been 97 days since his mother died. The boy is 10 years old, it's been 90 days since I found out I was a father. I knew a girl once, the boy's mother. She was, well she was different. We grew up a few streets apart. She kept to herself mostly, her entire family did. When she stopped coming to school there were murmurs about her father's ailing mental health. Teenagers are cruel, so most of that was, I guess children being, cruel. I saw her again my 1st year of college in a bar back home during...
Weekly Contest #37
With a firm grip on the steering wheel and a head full of anger and confusion. Carol was flying down an empty highway in her blue sedan. Driving in the opposite direction she was driving to just this morning. Her body was trembling as she replayed the events of the past hour. "We aren't your birth parents". These words kept ringing in her ears."Mommy what is that?" A voice said from the passenger seat. Carol looked over at her daughter, who had her finger pressed against the window. Carol leaned forward and looked up through the windshield t...
Weekly Contest #36
Butterflies is a short story series told only from the journal entries of a former MK soldier suffering from PTSD.Journal entry #5I was there in 94, I remember so clearly the anxiety, the butterflies that had fluttered from the bellies of millions, now in the air floating through the currents in the sky.This great unease was followed by indescribable jubilation. Masses unified in joy and excitement, the promise of a new world never before seen. The people once so oppressed, to govern themselves. We, the soldiers, were told to lay down arms, ...
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