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Weekly Contest #368
Slam. The sound was a lot louder than the farm hand expected.At first, he thought the signposts had fallen over. Only just this morning did he see all six lodged into the ground. Paint still dripped off them. He wondered who had the honor. The bunks were only half full last night, but the farm hand couldn’t remember who was absent. He raised his head, grabbing the rim of the hat with one hand, while the other was wrapped around a thick piece of string. Or at least, what Derrick called string. Boots covered in mud, he stood in the middle of a...
Weekly Contest #366
The second sip couldn’t have been long enough. “I think it’s been five months since I’ve had a Coke.”Her shoulders slumped against the wall. Cold wood, the kind that’s been wet and dried off over and over again. Already, the paper cup in her hand was growing light. It’d been years since Monica felt the temptation to touch her ear. Dozens of shadows would have shielded her if she had. A short, curt laugh. “That might have been the dumbest part of your cover.”Monica returned the laugh. A solid metal block jammed into her back. She lifted herse...
Weekly Contest #365
“Give me one good reason to trust you.” Words trembled out of the man. Not thin and certainly not stocky, his physical build came about from countless summers of hard work and even more winters of loss. She had observed them all from her perch, the sky, and even on the rare occasion when the valley was all to herself. Him, the one with the shaved head and arm dashed by scars who stood now in front of her throne, was no doubt their leader. He looked up at her, a few wet drops of the ceiling of the cave plopped onto the center of his skull. Li...
Weekly Contest #354
The clothes had to have been too big.Rango repeated that same sentence in silence, in the form of both an observation, and a plea, dozens of times during the drive home. The pounding of words against his skull made his disguise all the harder to keep. He couldn’t remember what he said to Skunk that so easily convinced him to drive him miles out of the way. Over and over, his head resting on leather torn sometime before he was born, Rango said the same thing.The clothes were too big.“Construction?” Rango looked over. Skunk’s head was straigh...
Weekly Contest #346
*New group message created: “Project Top Hat Attempt #0091”*--- 12:07 PM ---Adam: Ninety-one times?!Ben: Watch.User FTX0091 is typing…Adam: Our budget doesn’t account for five attempts much less ninety-one.Ben: Don’t worry.Adam: Man, it’s Saturday. Give it a rest.User FTX00091 is typing…Adam: And who’s this other number…?Ben: WaitFrosty: Birfday happy!Adam: ….Ben: The Pincer program Clinton found wasn’t working when I ran Frosty through validation requests. I had togo line by line to find out where the logic break was.Frosty: Me gusta you di...
Weekly Contest #335
Snooze.Over and over and again, he pressed down on the snooze button. The couch wasn’t comfortable. For only a few hours, his face was pressed against the green cushions, emerald string intertwined with scarlet. But just being able to lay out his back after a long night of drinking was good enough for Geoff.A series of aggressive vibrations rang out from his phone. He pushed off the couch. Dim rays of sun broke through the white, vertical blinds that hung on the sliding glass door. A glance down at the floor allowed Geoff to breathe a sigh o...
Weekly Contest #328
Monday, 20XX “Still cold. We were told to wait inside the barracks. Not sure why they called it the barracks. It’s the only building around. None of us were able to catch a glimpse of the land while we were in the drone. Randy saw a blade of grass pop up from the dirt when we landed, though. He had to explain the concept of “grass” to the newbie. Even I felt like I needed a reminder. The kid did a good job during the tour, though. Saw the mess hall, control room, some bunks, the whole nine yards. Michela just stared right through the kid. S...
Weekly Contest #327
“Don’t worry, buddy. It’s just a costume.” Meowing, he had never heard such a terrible sound. Grant didn’t hate cats. He’d never hated cats or dogs, or any kind of pet. Even now, as his arms grew tired, he wasn’t angry at this specific cat. His or her coat was a cloak of darkness, aside for a pair of piercing, blue eyes. Grant was jealous. He wished his eyes could glow. “Here, kitty.” His fingers remained stiff, just like the fake chain mail draped over his chest. The cat bent down, waving a paw toward Grant’s direction. Again, he called aft...
Shortlisted for Contest #318 ⭐️
“Mom?!”Pounding on the steps grows louder.“Dad?!”Thumbing, banging, even stuffed under all the blankets and pillows, he can hear doors slam and closets shut.“Mom! Dad?”It was just like the boy to call out for both parents by the time neither showed themselves on the second call. David was the same way, but he remembers his long-time friend breaking out of the habit at a fairly young age.His son is a little different.He leans back, more than a little. Soft, unmistakenly satin, scoops under him. Further, he slides into the bed. Surely, not eve...
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