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Weekly Contest #346
The Bridge of ScreamsThe walk home from work was a trudge. Too far, too many people on the sidewalks, too many horns honking, too much.Unless it was Friday. There was an energy to a Friday, a clarity of thought, a clarity of being. For Friday was the day he visited the bridge.He'd have loved to stop by each and every day, working or not, but too much of a good thing turns good into normal. Into boring.The bridge was the most not-boring thing he'd seen in twenty years. Seen, though, was the wrong word. To the eyes, the bridge was nothing more...
Weekly Contest #263
Bet on the Blade Oh, my Wren, I hate that woman. Sheriff, she called herself upon riding into town a few months ago. Not really named herself so much as announced. “I’m Sheriff this here town!” she’d yelled, climbing from her mount in the dirt of the crossroads. Her horse looked the strongest looking animal I ever seen. Dust drifted from its coat when it shook, but when it was done shaking, that beast planted its feet as if daring the world move it. Gotta say, if I had to bet, I’d bet on the horse. She was a different story. I saw it in how ...
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