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Weekly Contest #374
Southeast Alabama 1976 “Go put your tennis shoes on,” Mama said. “I don’t want to. It’s hot.” She looked down at my dirty toes. “Then go wash your feet. You’re not going with me with the bottoms black as tar.” “Where are we going?” “To Miss Myrtle’s.” “Who’s that?” “She’s gonna help your sister.” “How?” “Just go wash your feet.” I sat on the side of the bathtub and scrubbed my feet with the bar of Zest and a wash rag until the black came off. Daddy brought the baby out in her yellow plastic carrier and set her in the middle of the front se...
Weekly Contest #373
Somewhere down a dirt road in south Alabama The ditch told me to quit throwing rocks. “That one nearly came through my window!” We lived in a white trailer with a green stripe. We had a big yard, way bigger than our home needed. There were pecan trees and pine trees all around, and a mimosa tree with pink, silky blooms grew by the porch. A ditch ran along the road out front. Where the driveway crossed it, the water went through a big cement pipe. School had just let out, and no other children lived on our road. I was already bored. So I sat...
Weekly Contest #372
It was still dark when the sound woke me. Before my alarm. Before sunrise. I sleep with those little orange foam earplugs and a fan going all night. Between the two, I usually don’t hear much. But I heard this. Coming from the backyard. It wasn’t far away. It was close and loud, calling over and over. I pulled out an earplug. There it was again. I sat up and woke my husband. “Do you hear that?” He did. And then I remembered. The phone call the night before. I had been expecting it. I was in New Jersey. My family was a thousand mil...
Weekly Contest #371
Livvy had been to Whimsy World several times, but each visit felt a little less magical than the one before. Nothing had ever quite matched that first trip at ten, when she'd believed the magic was real. She hadn't wondered where they were going next, what time they needed to be somewhere, or who was planning any of it. She'd just wanted to see everything. Now she was back with Ethan and her stepkids, Owen and Sadie, and she spent most of the day looking down at her phone. She checked wait times, adjusted restaurant reservations, and kept tr...
Weekly Contest #370
The garage door is already open as I pull in. Through the windshield, I see Shelly reaching into the shelves above the workbench, shifting things aside, her ponytail swinging with each movement. She's still in running shorts and a tank top, hair damp at the neck from her evening run. I cut the engine and sit for a second. The engine ticks as it cools. Headlights shine flat against her back, then click off, and the garage goes dim and gray. “Do you know where the grill lighter went, Joe?” she calls out, not turning around. “I want to make su...
Weekly Contest #368
The Speck and the Spark* 1985 Hackensack, New Jersey Coach House Diner The gravel crunched under Molly's hooves as we crossed the parking lot. Quarter past eleven, a misty Tuesday night, right off Route 4. I kept my hat pulled low against the glare of that big neon sign. Molly picked her way around some little Honda, snorted at the exhaust, and kept on. She never did take to automobiles. Neither did I. I got down right at the front and looped her reins around the black railing by the steps. “Behave yourself,” I told her. She blew thr...
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