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Weekly Contest #353
When I was ten I planted an avocado pit. I planted it in exposed soil - squared patches, where our playset used to stand. It had two swings and a slide and was made of light wood. The wood looked too new to me - the lumber aisle at Home Depot. Swinging back and forth I’d think lazily that it ought to be painted, or at least have its edges buffed. But I did not know if they did that and still do not. I told my mom what I was going to do. She had cut the avocado after all. Surely she washed and patted it dry. I then went out of the kitchen and...
Weekly Contest #341
My friend Sarah and I did college online. This gave us the flexibility to do what we were doing that day. What we were doing was walking down a street in Roanoke we did not know. In late noon, in early fall. We did that a lot that semester, crept around places we had never been—outside of Lynchburg, outside our merry-go-round. Walking, I felt bored. I felt fatigued from schoolwork and an itch for solitude. But Roanoke had bookstores, and Sarah and I loved to read. So on that road we found a bookstore, oddly placed and overpriced. I looked in...
Weekly Contest #316
(Contains: physical violence, substance abuse) The day I consumed truth was sunny and normal for a Thursday in April. My lips, at first, lay still, stricken by that horrible sight. But that sight turned my mouth dry. So desperately dry, they began to part. No, there was no moisture keeping them sealed, keeping me safe. So they parted. And there was no going back, for that truth had already slipped into my mouth—yes, through a crevice of an opening, it had slipped into my mouth. And now, call it survival instinct, call it cowardice, all I cou...
Weekly Contest #283
The day I arrive home from college, my family does not come to the door. I find them in the kitchen. Rising quickly, my mom fumbles an apology. “Oh, honey! I wasn’t sure when you’d get here.” I told her, twice, but that's ok. She hugs me and asks about the trip. “Good,” I smile, “no traffic.” My dad is already out the door, popping the trunk. He’s more of a doer than a talker, that's ok. There is no sign of my little brother in the kitchen. There is no sign of him anywhere, actually. That’s ok. Eventually, they trickle to other par...
Weekly Contest #230
There was nothing unusual about the Carlton family, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me begin this story with two initial facts. Number one, on the morning of July 19th, a murder was committed in the Carlton house. Number two, one of the Carltons did it.As I said, there was nothing unusual about the Carltons. Come to think of it, they were quite boring. Common run-of-the-mill folk. Quite simply… well, simple. They lived in the smack middle of Tennessee, in a small town called Honeytree. A population barely reaching 4,000. Mr. and Mrs. gr...
Weekly Contest #219
I've been in these pants for... too long. Been in this house for too long. Alone for too long. Stop procrastinating. Change your pants. I sulk off the sofa, aiming my feet towards the bathroom...the bathroom? Why am I in the bathroom? Pants. I need pants. Stepping out of the bathroom, I shake my head, trying to wake. I don’t. Sluggishly, I then step towards the dresser, an old, rickety sorta creature. Locating the pant drawer I reach for the handle."Ow!"A sharp pinch to my fingertip. It's a splinter. This wakes me up. Rubbing my ey...
Weekly Contest #177
Dan Peters Publishing,"Hey there Dan, it's Shane Miles. Maybe you don't remember me but I was the college intern you told to "get the *** out of my office." Since then, I've graduated college, receiving a bachelors in English, and I've really cleaned up my act. I know the previous internship didn't go perfectly, but I'm extremely eager to make it as a journalist, and well, I would really appreciate a second chance.Assuming you aren't already convinced to take me back like the prodigal son...unless you are? Ok, so you're not c...
Weekly Contest #171
It’s bitter out here tonight. Trouble roams these streets at all hours, but the lack of sunlight stirs up another kind of evil. I'm walking through downtown Chicago. That's where I live. Honestly, I’m not sure how long I've lived here but life happened and here I am. Lifes been rough lately. Lifes been rough for a while. I hate these streets. I hate the dark, the whispers, the footsteps shuffling through the trash. I miss my home. Yes… my home, 422 Old Laker St. Seems like forever since I've been there. Heck, seems like forever since I...
Weekly Contest #150
My mom and I are finally meeting today. I say “finally” because she’s been bugging me about it for weeks. Yes, I admit, it’s been a long time, but she needs to respect my schedule. Anyways, we’re meeting today and I’m excited for two reasons. One, I want to update her on my new job. Two, It’s the perfect place for an insta picture. It’s some retro diner downtown, the kind you'd find in the city. The type of place busy millennials go to meet their busy friends and talk about their busy lives. I crave that life, the business, the hustle, the e...
Weekly Contest #146
Another breath, another hour, another day, gone. I thought time was supposed to slow down as you grew up. No. It slips through your fingers like sand. Time treads at its own pace. It doesn't care whether you're jogging beside it or gasping for air miles back. I've been choking on Times dust for a while now. Twenty-four nothing to show. Wedged between the cushions of my hammy down couch, I stare numbly at the ceiling. Couches were made to feel comfortable and peaceful, yet here I lay drowning in insecurity. My boyfriend and I broke up t...
Weekly Contest #111
Why do I feel like this? When I first started I felt an overwhelming sense of motivation. No, deeper than motivation. I felt like I had to do this, like it was my destiny. Back then, I had to create, it was painful not to. I guess, when I think about it, nothing has changed in that aspect. It still hurts not to create. So why don't I? If I know it hurts me, why do I remain stagnant? Laziness I suppose. That kills me. Kills me to know that my dream, something that once pumped my heart with determination, has become foggy. Soon...
Weekly Contest #100
It's perfect, almost too perfect. No. Stop overthinking. He loves lasagna, everyone loves lasagna. It's perfect.I finish wiping down the kitchen counter. Cheese, spices, and chopped vegetables are speckled everywhere. I always was a messy cook. Maybe that's why he hates me. It was more than that and I knew it. Our marriage had been a ship-wreck since the day I said "I do." It wasn't anything violent, just words. Words are enough. Everyday was like warfare, we were constantly screaming at each other. Maybe that's why Steven wanted to move. Be...
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