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Weekly Contest #90
I picked up the last lemon half and placed it upon the ailing orange juicer grandma had given me. It was an old and a quite demanding juicer; my right hands’s knuckles had become anchored due to the constant twists it took to extract the essence of the citrus. And it hurt. A lot. But I kept reminding myself of the reason that I was doing this and the feeling of discomfort from the cramps instantly withered away. I looked at the mountain of pulp less halves at the tin below the lemonade stand. “This is for Luna. That poor desolated sombre lit...
Weekly Contest #84
TW: bullying, slurs Two years had passed since the extinction of the virus. Yet here I was. In the principal’s office. Captive so as to narrate the events of the previous Sunday night. “You Chinese f-ck,”. All windows were sealed shut, yet a wind of bewilderment managed to blow me straight in the face. All the remarks I had heard till now; all the “go back to China”s’ in the bathroom stalls and all the hostile leers I would constantly receive in cafes and supermarkets; they had never succeeded at bringing about my incredulity. Having grow...
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