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Weekly Contest #337
This story contains a discussion of euthanasia. No one spoke his name, not because they couldn’t, but because he had none now. It didn’t bother him. Perhaps he deserved it.He struggled against his shackles, trying to move his slight frame into better position to see out the window. They had dropped out of interstellar speed once the spacecraft had entered the star system. Hoping to see an asteroid, or meteor, or anything at all, he strained his neck and rocked back and forth against the metallic wall of the ship. There was nothing, thoug...
Weekly Contest #286
He turned on the light in the bathroom, but it didn’t feel right, so he did it again. That one felt better, but it wasn’t quite there yet. Two more times, and he moved on. He had tried his best. His fuzzy outline in the mirror showed a mop of bed-headed brown locks overshadowing squinting cobalt blue eyes. She told him sometimes that his eyes were beautiful, but he could never believe it. They didn’t see enough, and the things they did see weren’t good enough. She loved his eyes and presumably the rest of him, but coul...
I’m a good Italian wife. I have the hair, and the accent. I love my kids. I don’t let my man go hungry. And the way to fill up hungry stomachs is through…pasta! If you’re like me,, a housewife who’s a little lonely and got some time on your hands, have I got something for you. Tonight’s recipe is an extra special meal for you to try, just for a certain type of occasion. Listen, I know my love language. Don’t give me a personality test and a color. Give me a recipe. Give me a challenge, and I will rise to it. Let ...
Weekly Contest #269
This story contains allusions to cancer and death. “It’s nice to meet you, Colin,” said Amy. “I’m sorry I’m not available right now. Please leave a message,” said Colin. Amy nodded and smoothed down the scrubs encasing her legs. The books, of course, had explained how to handle this situation, but it was always helpful to have the assistance of the family too. They knew things. She turned and looked at the figure in the recliner. “He’s nervous,” drawled Hank in a rich Southern baritone. “Give him a few...
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