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Weekly Contest #79
At first she wants to laugh. Then the option of scolding Caleb feels sweet on her lips. She’s ready from a sarcastic reply too. In the end she does nothing. Willow only looks at Caleb, his curls mused, only half his face made visible by the flame. His eyes are focused on the fire they barely figured out how to start, like the two spoiled royal brats they’ve been raised as. Despite his height, he looks small and fragile. He looks lost. It shouldn’t be like this. He’s the big brother, the smart sibling, her protector. He should tell her not be...
Weekly Contest #78
When you pass by Magnoila Street you may see an old brick house with half stained glass, flowers and weeds growing together in the garden, and various paint cans hanging from the tree branches, you may think is fun and colorful, and full of personality. A good story for friends. However, Patricia Nelson from next door would huff and puff and complain every few days when a new project would pop up in the front yard yet again. To this day she still brings up the pyrotechnics incident from two years ago at every town meeting. Granny Callie from...
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