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Weekly Contest #249
“patio of Awaken Cafe- I’ll be wearing a hat - see you at noon!’ Joanna re-read the brief text message, looking for some further clue. A mustachioed man bumped her slightly as he walked past. Joanna appreciated his well cut suit, his mincing precise steps, and his unfortunately bare, well coiffed head Zach, Mr. Right, her rest-of-life partner, and future husband, would be waiting for her. That seemed like enough information yesterday, but now looking from the Awaken Cafe door out into the patio, filled with people at small met...
Weekly Contest #247
Calvert Barrows, known to friends as CB, couldn’t do 10 push-ups in a row. He actually couldn’t do 2 push-ups in a row, but it sounded better when he said 10. Like he had gotten up to 9, and fell just short on his way to 10. A real man was strong enough to do 10 push-ups right? He needed to show his boys, Ben 6, and Theo 3, how to be a man, and push-ups seemed like a good place to start. He charted his plan out, designing a multi-tab spreadsheet in Excel with progressive increases, rest days, and of course a nutrition pla...
Weekly Contest #241
Patrick O’shea had a knack for finding lost things, people, jewels, even stolen money, but when he got lost, that was a problem. He couldn’t find himself. Out of jail for almost a week, and he still didn’t feel right. O’shea moved the newspaper draped in front of him to catch the morning light coming through the open windows and door. The shaft of sun warmed only his right side, adding to his unbalance. O’shea felt untethered, let loose in a place where he no longer fit. He had no job or purpose anymore. How would he find...
Weekly Contest #240
Christian Jones felt a breeze on his arm and almost jumped out of his skin.Was it a dream? He rubbed his shoulder against his cheek, and felt the dry sandpaper of a five-day stubble, skin burnt by the sun. The deep blue ocean surrounding their small boat had been playing tricks with his mind, mirages of land, and what did those looks from Rafe mean?Again, a gentle movement on his skin, and he leapt up.“Rafe! Captain Rafe, a breeze!” Christian turned to look at the mainsail, eager for it to fill with wind, to pull them out of the ho...
Weekly Contest #239
Chef Tyla straightened the last chair on the beautifully decorated patio, huge palm plants surrounding brightly colored tables, fairy lights glittering, glasses and silverware set just so, ready for the guests coming that evening. “Everything looks perfect!” She said to Elbie standing next to her in his white apron. “With the money I’m going to make tonight, I just might make it." She looked around at her restaurant, what she stressed about, sweated over, fought for, during the past five years, all on her own. If everything wen...
Weekly Contest #238
A grin exploded across his face as Harold Jones walked through the rows of desks to the front of the class to receive his award for the best story of the day. He could be a great writer, knew he had amazing stories stacked up inside him like shelves in a library, but just couldn’t get them them. He had always known this Writers retreat, held at the historic Arts Building at the University of Manitoba, would be the key to unlocking his success, and he finally was on his way. The writers gave up technology to create stories...
Weekly Contest #237
The spindly shop reached up through the Lego block office buildings and crawling freeway ramps as if reaching for the sun, to escape from the street below. The plate glass front looked out with sad eyes on what had become of its home, doing all it could to grip the ground, to hang on and not be sucked up by the great maw of progress. This little building, a colorful grandma, held tight, though the rest of its neighboring shops had left, away from the dark shadows, and detritus of the street below.When it had been planted into this ferti...
Weekly Contest #236
***themes of violence***Ron’s knee bounced up and down, banging against the small antique desk over and over. The once orderly desk had papers torn and disheveled, drawers yawning open as if screaming at the assault.'What's that noise, is someone at the door?” The small voice behind Ron added to his impatience.“No Ma, it's just Dad’s stupid desk. God, what’s the last time you logged into this thing?”He looked again at the ancient computer, reloading software updates to the current decade. The hourglass graphic mock...
Weekly Contest #232
It was the last day of our summer break, and it was expected that the world would end.“Today is the day, but I don’t know when...“ Anna said, her hand shielding her eyes against the bright, midday sun sparkling off the blue ocean waves. Me and my cousins, Anna and Miguel had been on the beach, playing cards on towels on our last morning, maybe ever. A solar eclipse had been forecasted for sometime that afternoon. A rumor had spread widely that this year, in the complete darkness of the total eclipse, natural disasters would en...
Weekly Contest #231
“There is a hole in his stomach, I think that is where the money goes.” Chico said to the other small boys kicking stones in the alley outside the dingy Public House. Like Chico, only 5, or 6 years old, the other boys nodded, sensing the truth. They had all known despair, watching their own fathers lose themselves, pouring golden, liquid drinks down their throats. Many of the boys had been sent by their mothers to the Public House to get their fathers to remember they had a family at all, to encourage them to return before all the mo...
Weekly Contest #230
The rain rumbled against the glass in the hospital room.The spare, small room smelled of disinfectant and dust. The crisp white sheets shone bright against the yellow curtains and peeling trim. Sara Ann saw the concerned look of an elderly nurse, tilting her head at her as the door closed. She took off her rain soaked jacket, and looking around found a hook behind the door to hang it on, before turning to finally acknowledge the figure on the bed.A pale gaunt man, hair thinning and gray, lay still, only his arms uncovered by the sh...
Weekly Contest #229
Having lost her own house, Mylee knew exactly what she wanted in this one, though being ten, she didn't quite have the words for it. She added a chimney for her fireplace, and then squeezed icing in hopeful, repeating swirls across the roof.Of course, kitchens and bathrooms were important, but for Mylee, the Hideout Closet, the Secret Attic door, and the Comfy Corner were absolute priorities. She needed places where she could escape and be alone. Staying at her Uncle’s apartment, crowded now with two families and a cat in just two ...
Weekly Contest #228
“Tell me, how do you think I ended up here, in prison?” Lourdes leaned against the heavy metal door, muffled voices echoed from the hall outside; shouting, laughing and cursing. Lourdes wore a clean and pressed inmate uniform, her white tennis shoes glowed white. She pushed her thick framed glasses tight against her face with a knuckle. Gloria sat on the bunk, her attention on her wine red nails, picking invisible fluff off her bed, anything to not look at Lourdes. Her few possessions, still lay crumpled in a pile on...
Weekly Contest #227
Christina wondered how long she should wait before she reported her husband missing. Two days seemed too soon, but a week too long. Who would take a whole week to notice their husband missing? She held her hot cocoa in both hands, sipping it slowly as she watched the gentle flakes drifting through the pine trees. The first cold snap of the season had come with several inches of snow, and it covered the ground in a white, soft blanket. She loved being alone in her kitchen, and had spent the morning rearranging her utensils, th...
Weekly Contest #226
“Marcus, What if we host Thanksgiving at our house this year?” Marina asked, her voice soft. I squinted my eyes, looking for the catch, but my wife’s wide smile seemed to have good intentions, for once. Marina, my beautiful over-achieving wife, knew I couldn’t stand her family. After the disaster last year I never wanted to see them again. Hosting her family could only be a disaster. But, this dinner could give us a reason to work together, instead of drifting apart. Lately we barely speak, Marina blamed me for the cold drafts...
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