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Weekly Contest #54
‘And welcoming our fifth and final contestant of the night: Miss. Emily. Winters!’ A shove in the back from a faceless figure in black thrust Emily from the darkness onto the set, the huge lights from above temporarily blinding her as she squinted out at the studio audience. Their whoops of encouragement and applause deafened her, and she had to make her entrance feeling like a kitten taking its first unbalanced steps without the aid of sight or hearing. After a few seconds, her eyes adjusted to the brightness and she latched gratefully on...
Weekly Contest #50
The treehouse, Alison realised with a pang, was a lot less impressive when you were eighteen, not eight. Though the tree that held it was in vivid bloom, bursting with greenery in the height of summer, the house itself had seen better days. Rot had begun to set in to the wood, and little collections of fungus speckled the faded blue paint on the walls. A few panels of wood here and there were missing, and half the roof had gone altogether; in its place, a rogue tree branch was growing into the gap, dipping from the main trunk a little sadl...
Weekly Contest #44
(Trigger warning: contains depictions of suicide.) It was a Tuesday when we said goodbye, and on Wednesday she jumped. It all came out on the Thursday. In the local paper, block letters bemoaned the ‘tragic loss’ of ‘promising 21-year-old student’, Poppy’s smiling face staring unblinkingly back. I recognised the photo. Her face had been cropped from a recent group shot of our university friends celebrating the end of third year exams; the arm visible in the background was mine, wrapping tightly around her. Most of the calls happened o...
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