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Weekly Contest #180
Jack sat at his bench, as he did each night, and he considered smashing his head through the keys. No. This time, he wished the weight of the piano would be too much for the stained carpeting to bear and the gorgeous 1969 Steinway would fall all the way down to the first floor as a result. That’s where the ugliest, cheapest gamblers played. It would crush a few of them - if he was so lucky. Things were so different, now. Jack didn’t enjoy these recurring violently insipid thoughts and he really didn’t enjoy the pleasure it brought him. But, ...
Weekly Contest #132
I think the very worst part about it was His judgmental stare. Nothing had even been confessed yet, mentally or verbally, but I could feel the statue of Jesus on me. His permanently bloodied hands and aching face were stuck looking down on me with pure contempt. Desperate pleading. Several minutes had passed me and my mind was still focused primarily on the man above me. He wasn’t going to look away first, I guess. All of this stemmed from a strange type of guilt. My parents were strong and avowed atheists. For all th...
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