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CW: Language, Domestic Violence Shhhhh… The rain outside his house fell in such heavy sheets that her rainjacket was next to useless under it. She rapped on the windowpane with such precision that anyone would believe she’d done this a dozen times. Tap… Tap… Tap, tap… Tap... And they’d be right. He slid open the window and she clambered ungracefully inside. She barely had time to shed her rain-soaked jacket before he had her against the wall, the open window long-forgotten in his drunken haze. “Where you been?” “It’s pouring. Where the hell ...
Weekly Contest #118
CW: Blood The crisp autumn air stung the back of her throat as she rode her bike down the hill out of her neighborhood. Her wardrobe was ill-prepared for a climate like this, so she made do with a long pair of leggings and a thick sweatshirt. She pedaled and pedaled and pedaled, thinking of warm things to trick her body into making the trip to class. Warm things. Butter on a stovetop. Sheets fresh from the dryer. A fall-scented candle. Logs in a fireplace. Smoke coming from a chimney. Smoke. Smoke? Her nose was burning with the intense and d...
CW: Language The apartment was a mess. He hadn’t cleaned in weeks because he hadn’t had a reason to. They’d had to dodge dirty laundry, empty cereal bowls, and scattered pillows and blankets just to get to the little foldaway table in the back corner of the living room. He sat across from her in his folding chair, an untouched game of chess between them. “You can move first.” “No, I insist.” They stared at the game, just as they had been for the past half hour, neither of them moving. He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his hair, the...
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