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Weekly Contest #11
His favourite colour had always been blue. Not because it was depressing or anything -it wasn't- but because it seemed to soak in the light, and then give some of it back. "Like black," he said to me once, "but less dead, less drab." Lucky for him our scrubs are blue. He said it was a sign from God. "There's a reason for everything so I believe that there's a reason my colour is blue. Blue shows I'm in the right place." Those were his words. All the days I had known him in civilian garb, he never presented himself to the world without a blue...
Weekly Contest #10
A sudden coldness hit me at the core as a heavy feeling settled in my stomach. In a shaky voice I responded, "Thank you, ma'am." I put up a smile for the Deputy Head and I was on my way home clutching my A levels statement of results as if the pressure from my hand would rearrange the lines and curves that formed my symbols. The alphabetic arrangement of the subjects put my worst performance in the lead on full display, making it all the more worse. I replayed the scene at the school office. Mrs Wagoner, the mother of the school in the ...
Weekly Contest #8
The informal, collarless, short-sleeved, white shirt, tight around my bosom, hung slightly loose around my thin waist. I was happy with the reflection before me. The one I had worked so hard to achieve. The dark pair of jeans added onto my simple and presentable outfit. I was known for the jeans I wore. Jeans were the only thing I wore. Katiana, the girl who rocked jeans. Black wedged sneakers finished off the look and I couldn't be more satisfied. It was time I took a break on my own. It was time I got away from home where I was suppre...
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