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Weekly Contest #100
TW: physical and verbal abuse, infidelity The squirrel was rust-coloured. Like decay. Like blood seeping into wet earth. It’s tiny rodent heart slammed against the confines of its tiny rodent chest. Well aware of impending human-presence, the squirrel took off into the underbrush, tiny muscles pumping, twig-like bones bounding. Like some great beast clawing itself out from the mist, the car’s lights cut through the dusk. The great Jabberwock with blazing yellow eyes. All grinding metal and ageing alloy, it grumbled, brake pad...
Weekly Contest #96
The tulips on the windowsill of the guest room were sanguine, almost nauseating in their brightness. They dripped a heady fragrance into the still air around them, cloying and oppressive. Rain pattered softly against the window. It was the middle of summer and the warmth was unbearable. In the aftermath of months of scarlet-red dry heat, a sudden bout of precipitation had left the area humid and sticky. Despite the rain and intense humidity, the tulips did not appear to be wilting in the slightest. Their petals tipped up to the ceiling with ...
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