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Weekly Contest #336
“I only meant—” she started. “I get what you mean,” he said, interrupting her. “I don’t think you do,” she disagreed. “I do,” he said harshly. “No,” she insisted, “you always hear what I say.” She paused, considering her next words before continuing, “but you do not listen for what I mean.” He glared at her, asking, “So, you’re not breaking up with me?” She sighed expectantly, then replied, “Yes, but not for the reasons you’re thinking.” He asked, his voice fill with frustration, “And now you can read my mind, huh?” Gently, she replied “No...
Weekly Contest #334
Personal Log—Star Date 2025.1201 Most folks who know me endure my many ‘Trek and ‘Wars references. And yes, I often must explain the reference with a bit of consternation. I believe that they find that science fiction challenges too many of their beliefs about humanity. Yes, we have the potential to explore space, and yes, we bring a lot of baggage with us. But who doesn’t look to the future for guidance already? I don’t know. Maybe I am asking for too much. I wonder if anyone really gets me. If ever given a chance to read my journals, wil...
Weekly Contest #333
Chiara Wilde knew she had made a mistake the moment the words had left her mouth. “I need time to myself to think about my future,” she said. She had said those words over a year ago and, at the time, had meant them. Deep down, she still felt that way even though seeing the anguish on his face almost proved unbearable. She expected some demand for an explanation which she was ready to give. She had rehearsed it for fear of relenting and staying with him. After seven years together, she knew she could possibly waiver and comfort...
Weekly Contest #314
I woke to unimaginable pain. My body was clearly annoyed with the unpleasantness of what probably was the remnant of 50,000 volts of electricity. Someone had tasered me in my car with what I assumed was my own taser. Ain’t that something? I could not focus, could not force my mind to organize my thoughts. Maybe recalling my last memory would help. I was having dinner with my parents. Ah, yes, that was helping to dull the monstrous headache that threatened to pound me back into unconsciousness. I could hear my voice. I was talking to Mom...
Weekly Contest #313
“Are you there, God? It’s me.” Valerie Milner asked, then added. “Again.” This was not the first time Valerie had sought God’s presence, and she figured it would not be the last. She had wanted the warmth that she had experienced at eight years old, sitting at church next to her mother during a particularly riveting rendition of Amazing Grace. She had found impossible to keep her seat, running down the aisle as church members praised Jesus for filling her with the spirit. She didn’t know what it was or why tears streamed down her face. B...
Weekly Contest #312
“It’s back!” the older dark-skinned man shouted, fear clearly permeating his voice. “Again?” Nia asked, stunned by the announcement. She rushed to the console next to him only to see her worse nightmare. The familiar yellow glow of the energy beam was heading straight for the heart of the city. Again. Nia turned to the woman seated next to her and shouted, “Raise the shield!” The woman reacted immediately, and the glimmering shield began to descend around the city of 600,000 inhabitants. It spread rapidly across the sky, encircling the c...
Weekly Contest #311
The heads of state sat silently in a conference room, exhausted from the rounds of negotiations and proposals for a viable course of action. Their leaders had demanded answers and solutions to this crisis that now consumed humanity’s thoughts. If the most brilliant minds in science, technology, and social science could not find a way, what could they do? When the young woman strode into the room, they all stood in deference to her. She ignored their gesture, focused on her mission, as she walked to the head of the table. When they retur...
Weekly Contest #310
Ink and BloodA Short StoryLinda M. White2528 Word Count Terria Mitchell stood staring at the tall dark man straight from the pages of her fantasy story. Instead of standing on the path where she had left him, he was blocking an aisle at the grocery store. As her female protagonist had done in her narrative, Terria stopped and scrutinized him, admiring his tall, strong physique. He was not dressed in the garbs that she had imagined for him, but she would never mistake his presence. As her dark and brooding stranger had done in he...
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