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Weekly Contest #364
“It’s not that I don’t trust him. It’s just that I don’t think he’s trustworthy.” I’m having this all-too-familiar conversation with my dearest friend, Lily, who is blessed with the face of a supermodel and the heart of a saint, which makes her a veritable magnet for every grifter within a twenty-mile radius. So of course, she ended up marrying a complete jerk. Which came as no surprise to any of us except Lily. I prepare myself to adopt a neutral response, convinced that Lily is about to drop one of her “guess what Mike did now?” bombshells...
Weekly Contest #340
TW: Character is followed without permission; mention of accidental death of wildlife It was never my life’s goal to become a stalker. Stalker might be a strong word—boundary-challenged is likely more accurate. It’s fair to say you wouldn’t suspect that I’m a creepy voyeur when you first meet me. You might find me a bit immature or obnoxious, but you’d probably think I’m too self-absorbed to have any interest in stalking. The problem is, I make questionable choices when I’m bored. Or when I’m trying to avoid figuring out my life. Now that I’...
Weekly Contest #333
There is something deliciously intoxicating about finding yourself in a foreign land, as you sit with the anxiety and anticipation of the unknown yet to reveal itself. From the moment the plane lands and you follow your weary seatmates toward an unfamiliar airport gate with its own variety of chaos, you know you are about to have an “experience.” Whether it will be sublime, horrendous, or somewhere in between is yet to be known. As you consider your fate, it becomes clear that you have no other choice but to surrender to the whims of the tra...
Weekly Contest #331
Sensitive content: mental health issues, emotional abuse Rebecca is a woman of precision, a connoisseur of order and predictability. Until now, her life has been built around routines to soothe her relentlessly busy mind. Every minute of her day is engineered to render her impervious to the whims and pointless distractions of others. Those who know her well are both impressed and frustrated by her adherence to routine. Rebecca is in her antiseptically clean kitchen at precisely 5:10 am, having just poured her daily kale smoothie into her sta...
Weekly Contest #324
He was meant to stay for a week’s vacation. One year later, he hadn’t left. He arrived with his wife, and she left him behind. He had watched her wave goodbye from the taxi as it unceremoniously ferried her away. He struggled to understand her ability to so casually discard their fifteen years of marriage, as if their years together had been a stop gap for something—he had no idea what. He returned to his hotel room, seeking its solace. Instead, he found rebuke from this shared witness to her last words to him: “It’s too late. You gave up on...
Weekly Contest #323
It might be the understatement of all understatements to acknowledge that I am a person who does not like to be told what to do. To be sure, I don’t think anyone likes to be forced into obedience, masochists aside, but being given a directive is guaranteed to send me into a rebellious fury. Put up a rule against and I will do everything in my power to do the exact opposite of what someone has forbidden me from doing, even if it is to my own detriment. Case in point: I am currently in my friend Shaina’s bathroom, staring at one of those Home ...
Weekly Contest #316
Almost from the moment Buzzed Beans opened, coffee aficionados from around the globe crossed its threshold to experience what the Coffee Times lauded “the purest form of legal ecstasy that your mouth will have the divine privilege of experiencing.” While unquestionably a hyperbolic description—it is after all, just coffee—the consensus soon became that one trip to Buzzed could literally be life-altering. During that fateful month in July, Buzzed truly lived up to its name. A handful of customers began reporting a strange phenomenon that occu...
Weekly Contest #313
Are you there, God? It’s me, Luke. Yeah me, the one who made himself your prodigal son by pulling a disappearing act the last ten years. I prefer to fly under your radar, floating through life with as minimal effort as the universe will allow me. The problem is, I’m a dad now. That’s not the problem, I love being a dad. But I now have responsibilities with a capital R, and I might be in danger of screwing up my perfect kid. Don’t get me wrong, he’s far from perfect—after all, he’s got my DNA! But he is so completely himself, with his quirks...
Weekly Contest #307
The contest was born out of a group of ideologically disconnected English professors who could agree on one thing and one thing only: their students were incapable of writing a decent paragraph. They were engaged in a philosophical war, fueled by the recently enacted directive from the Chancellor’s Office to eliminate all remedial English courses. This resulted in two distinct camps at Midline Community College: those who fervently believed students should be denied access until they could draft a basic essay, and those who felt it their div...
Weekly Contest #305
Snap! You’re Busted has captured stunning footage of Chloe Armstrong, Elevated Lifestyle Magazine’s recently named “Health Architect of the Year,” scarfing down what bore a striking resemblance to a McDonald’s Big Mac. Our camera operator caught her mid-bite, eyes closed in what could only be described as a food-induced orgasm. When we called Chloe’s name, she rolled up her window and sped away, a french fry dangling from her mouth. Hey, we’re the last people to judge, but in an interview that aired just last week, Chloe renounced all proces...
Weekly Contest #304
“Lily! How will you mark the neighborhood today?”Dr. Finley looked pleased with himself as he resorted to his endearing habit of ascribing animal behavior to the humans in his life.Lily didn’t think she could squeeze out a drop of wisdom, let alone leave a mark on this dreary Monday. She was not feeling anything resembling pride for her role as kitschy content creator for the marquee in front of the Pawsitive Vibes Pet Care office. She read last week’s message and felt a wave of disgust: “IF YOU KNOW A BETTER FISH PUN, LET MINNOW."Lily had w...
Weekly Contest #301
There is no question that my girlfriend Ebony is what some guys would call “a handful.” And before you think I’m some misogynistic jerk, I don’t mean it in that piggish way that guys refer to the size of a woman’s breasts. Not that Ebony’s breasts aren’t great—in fact, they’re the best pair that I’ve encountered in my thirty-seven years of well, having the awesome privilege of experiencing women’s breasts.Now I’m starting to sound like I’m obsessed with boobs when I’m honestly more of a butt guy. Okay, let’s be real. I am a fan of women’s bo...
Weekly Contest #299
From: Levi Jones <420itstimetoroll@gmail.com>Sent: Friday, February 7, 2025 7:44:39 AMTo: Professor Reyes< sreyes@smallvillecommunitycollege.edu>Subject: Agree to Disagree about Dwight (Sociology 100, section 54072)Dear Professor Reyes,First of all, your last lecture on meme culture totally resonated with me. I think memes are an awesomely underrated way of expressing emotions, especially for people like me who don’t really understand their emotions and definitely don’t like to use a lot of words.Speaking of memes--what if I subm...
Weekly Contest #298
It gets exhausting, this compulsion to apologize for every stupid thing that comes out of my mouth. Okay, maybe not stupid—more like thoughtless. It seems that no matter what I say, or how gently I try to couch my words in an uplifting tone, I manage to offend, annoy or generally piss people off.My efforts at keeping my thoughts to myself, or at least severely toning them down for general consumption, are failing miserably. It seems that every other word out of my mouth is some epically failed attempt to make nice. It might be time to accept...
Weekly Contest #294
The motley crew of five grizzled, road-weary, yet jocular lifelong friends sat in a row at the bar, ready to toast the end of another long week. As had been their tradition for the past twenty-five years, the self-named Compadres met up at The Rancher’s Cut Bar and Grill every Friday at 5 pm, give or take.The men worked hard, earning their happy hour tradition: Rick was a chicken farmer, Phil owned and managed a fleet of porta-potties, Ernie was a letter carrier, Mick was an electrician who pretty much fixed everything that went wrong in tow...
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