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Weekly Contest #130
Behind me, the door locks with a satisfying click. I have been waiting for years for what I am about to do. I relax my shoulders, stretch my neck, breathe deeply. Gathering all my courage, I begin;September 21, 2021RE: There is Time to Murder and Create*Dear Word Perfect 3.0-10.0;Finally, I have both the strength and wisdom to put my complicated feelings into words. To begin with, there is nothing perfect about you. As you must remember, it all began in 1991 with Word 3.0. Our relationship is similar to the one I am ...
Weekly Contest #127
He paces. Short choppy steps, pivots, begins again. His left hand holds a red plastic poker chip, the top grooves worn smooth by incessant rubbing of his thumb. His intensity bleeds through the walls. Upstairs, she adjusts each arm ...
Weekly Contest #123
My daily struggle between hope and inertia begins. Placing a small bet on hope, I get out of bed. Standing in my flannel nightgown in front of the full-length mirror I smooth down the left side of my collar until it is perfectly smooth. Next, I straighten each pearl button. The last button refuses to stay upright, I yank it off. I throw it at the wall, leaving a small chip in the wallboard. I pull my nightgown over my head, and toss it on the floor. I go into the bathroom and stare at my faded eyes, crows feet, the p...
Weekly Contest #122
What fresh hell is this? The porch motion detector flash of white light blinded me. As my eyes adjusted, I tore off the yellow post office slip fluttering against the screen door. What now? I had signed all the documents for the sale of the house. Did the realtor forget something? Again? The post office slip said “Signature Required” In bold letters along the bottom. Struggling to balance my purse and keys, I miss the lock, after several tries the key catches and my front door unlocks. I dig in my ...
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