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Weekly Contest #354
*some words in this story have been adapted into their closest human equivalent for clarity Thalën's hands wouldn't stop moving. He kept smoothing the fabric of his selk, then his hair, then back to the fabric again. The waiting room was sterile—pale walls, soft ambient hum—but it felt like it was closing in.His assistant, Kael, stood near the entrance reviewing the prepared statement. "You're doing that thing again," Kael said without looking up."What thing?""The hands. You do it every time."Thalën dropped his arms. "I hate these.""You're t...
Weekly Contest #49
“Acelynn! Acelynn! It’s time to get out of bed!” I listened to my mother’s shouts coming from the kitchen but decided to ignore them. If I ignored the next shout I’d expect that my little brother would eventually come running in my room with his tiny feet, eager to deliver the message from my mother. I pulled the sheet over my head. “Acelynn!” I groaned. I know mum, it's May 1st. A minute hadn’t passed before I heard Aden’s feet slapping on the wooden floor boards, the loose ones squeaking under his weight. I laid as still as I could beneath...
Weekly Contest #48
I had just concluded my final therapy session for the day when they found me. I stood up from my arm chair and outstretched my hand to a much more composed Brenda Farley, knowing it was the last time I’d see her, professionally at least.I was happy to help. In just 1 hour, 37 minutes she’d let go of 51 years of anxiety, depression, physical and sexual insecurities, self-hate and paranoia, all stemming from childhood trauma and subsequent failed marriages.Mrs. Farley stood and took my hand in both of hers, wrinkled and veiny. “I don’t know ho...
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