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Weekly Contest #335
The was something odd about the large print photograph. Joe moved the lamp in his Cambridge apartment closer, angling it for more light. Four men stood in front of Flannan Isles lighthouse, their oilskins dark against the white tower. December 1900, according to the faded ink on the back. Official records confirmed only three keepers were stationed there that month: James Ducat, Thomas Marshall, Donald MacArthur. The fourth man stood slightly apart from the others, his face not as clear, refusing to come into focus. Not blurred exactly but s...
Weekly Contest #325
Sarah Chen had left Los Angeles three days ago with a trunk full of equipment and a pitch that promised PBS something authentic. She was planning to create a documentary on the Courir de Mardi Gras, or the "run" of Mardi Gras. Her research told her it was the original Mardi Gras; a medieval French tradition preserved in rural Louisiana like a fossil in amber. Masked riders on horseback racing from farm to farm, begging for ingredients to make a communal gumbo. It was exactly the kind of cultural moment that could revive her stalling career....
Weekly Contest #324
The diving bell shuddered as it settled into the trench, and Dr. Sarah Hawthorne knew immediately that something had gone catastrophically wrong. The seal had fractured along a hairline crack that the inspection had somehow missed, and now the communications array crackled with static before going silent. Through the single porthole, she watched her tether cable snake downward, severed and drifting in the current. The backup oxygen system hummed to life. Eighteen hours, maybe twenty-four if she remained calm. She keyed the emergency beacon a...
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