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Weekly Contest #248
I. Thin. Reedy. Willow shoots raised their heads to the sky as hands patted down the dirt base. Spaced two hand-widths apart, the tube-like yellows and greens of newly planted cuttings stood proudly, too short to catch the sultry currents."There," Mother sighed, unbending at the waist. Her palms, powered with rich soil, fed the roots of his hair.His brows wrinkled. "Mother.""Ah, sorry, sorry, A-Liu," she chuckled, and ignoring his attempts at...
Shortlisted for Contest #239 ⭐️
There’s a ghost in the backseat. You catch glimpses of her as the car chases a line of streetlights. It’s hard to focus when your eyes are blurred with sleep. It’s harder still to recognize the beady squint set in a face so thin that you can see the car seat through it. “Eyes on the road,” Grandma chides, like the time you crossed the road without looking and she grabbed your hand. Sweat glued your palms together then. Now, her voice sticks to your ears. An itch that wriggles deep. “How long until we get there?” “Five minutes,” you s...
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