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Weekly Contest #177
--discussion of sexual violence--- Liz had several problems, but the biggest one was she was losing her mind. The lack of sleep, the pills Talia gives her to stay awake have confused her waking reality and her dreams. She could still do her job, but she needed to connect with the Bishop, only he could understand what she was going through. Her dispatches were sent out, signals into the darkness. Were they received and understood? Were they even noticed? Dr. Liz Friedman imagined they were. She trusted that her e...
Weekly Contest #176
---discussion of drugs and sex, cursing--- The short, fat man in the red velvet suit with white fur trim put the marijuana cigarette up to his huge white beard. “How much longer until we are done with this Christmas shit?” The snow falling behind the large neon signs for the shopping mall reflected reds, blues, greens and purples, showering the three people standing in the alley with sparkling confetti of colored lights. The ripe, sweet smell of restaurant trash from the dumpster next to them in the alley mingled with the smell of th...
Weekly Contest #175
For her last day on earth, she wished it was warmer. Martha hated being cold, and now that it was turning to winter the chill would not leave her bones. She rubbed the small metal pillbox in her hand, a talisman to allow escape from her misery. She twisted the dial on the small electric heater again, but it was turned up all the way. She pulled her thick sweater closer, tucked in the blankets wrapped around her legs even tighter, though it did nothing against the cold deep inside her. Today was her birthday. “Today is...
Weekly Contest #174
***Themes of sexual violence*** There is nothing like a dead body to bring two people together. “I am not the right person for this- shouldn’t we just call the police?” I leaned into Julie. She didn’t give me the time of day in high school, but now 20 years later, we were as thick as thieves after discovering the murder victim. “Greg, you can help us here. We had to cancel the reunion party. If you could figure out who did this, maybe we can hold it again.” Julie pleaded. “And no one really liked Tony, I mean except you-”...
Weekly Contest #173
I am so bad at buying gifts I almost got arrested. I blame the long distance relationship we were in, I could not think straight. Janey and I had lived up to the stereotype of U-haul lesbians, we moved in together after just three weeks of dating. To be fair, rent in the Bay Area is ridiculous, so we understood just being roommates would be OK even if it did not work out.But it did work out, until she was accepted into her dream graduate school, and we had to stretch our relationship over three states, thinning the connections unti...
Weekly Contest #172
I have never been this high in the Temple, climbing to the most sacred floor to bring an answer to the greatest issue facing our Church in years. I fear it is the wrong answer. I do not want to go. I pray to the gods they do not take their rage out on the bearer of the message. My red robes, thick and heavy, slide down my shoulders as I take step after step. All I hear is the shushing sound of it scraping along the stone steps. Sweat runs down my forehead and prickles along my back as I walk through the pools of flickering can...
Weekly Contest #171
I got eyes in my head, and been behind this bar long enough to know when a somebody has dynamite with a lit fuse inside of them.I know I don’t look like much, my grey beard is too long and my belly too big to do much besides pour whisky for drunks. But I knew the Cowboy was trouble, though of course I couldn't tell how. Hot as a two-dollar pistol, the air was thick with the stink from the cattle yards. The street sounds were drowned out by Joe singing in the corner like he did when the drink got to him, toneless Irish songs in his stron...
Weekly Contest #170
I can’t undo the zipper! My plan has gone terribly wrong, and now I can't breathe. It all came from me wanting to meet my idol, Lionel Messi. My name is Leo, just like his, except he is Lionel and I am Leonard. We are just alike. His nickname is La Pulga, which is the Spanish word for what my Mom calls me, Flea. She says when I was little I bounced around and was always where she didn’t want me to be. I have to see Leo play, I have to! I didn’t have money for a ticket. But I made a plan. I live right next to the...
Weekly Contest #169
“The dead walk among the tombstones at Mountainview Cemetery today.” Police Captain Jason Mollring said. He stared out at the view of the countryside from the top of the cemetery grounds while he sipped from a police station coffee mug. Recently hired from the Big City, he was still trying to get used to being in a small town. Officer Tricia Montalvo was not paying attention to him, instead closely examining the dead body. The head and shoulders of the victim were shredded and lacerated. This was her first murder case after four mo...
Weekly Contest #168
Some artists sang, some danced, some performed magic for the fawning crowds, the man in the cage starved.Behind thin metal bars, tall enough for him to stand up, and just wide enough for him to lay down, a man sat cross-legged on a folded mat. He was in conversation with several of the spectators, quietly talking, and then after a comment was made, laughed, along with many of the people. A clock was in the corner, with an extra hand, tracking along with minutes and hours, the days. It read 14 days, 12 hours and 57 minutes. The smal...
Weekly Contest #167
Wham! Something hit the back of Matt’s head and his left side, the pain hard and sharp. It reverberated across his skull, drowning out awareness of anything else and shooting stars across his vision. With a sudden jerk he fell back hard into the driver's door as inexplicably the large SUV he was driving stopped moving forward, but sideways, a roller coaster-shift of momentum. He felt the forceful impact abrupt against his broad back, pressing with immense force. Matt looked out of the windshield, and had the sensation of being in a trai...
Weekly Contest #166
The blank look in the pimp's eyes matched the broken video monitors on the walls of the dark bar. He was generally against the sale of love, it was more of his mom’s department. But it brought real love more often than it should. Dressed as an old man, he regretted his decision to stay in character and buy the cheap whisky. He wished for Ouzo and olives. Maybe it was time to give up, he was failing at his job. The pimp was doing better than him. He just couldn't keep up with Tinder or Bumble or even Match. He tilted ...
Weekly Contest #165
“Of course the gay kid was guilty.” The man said. “I mean it was his car right?”“He did not belong here.” A woman spoke, near him. Johnny could not tell where he was, a pale-yellow fog surrounding him. “I know his type. My Sara goes to high school with him. Did you know he was on the cheerleading team? And he wore dresses to school! Marco was just trouble. He got what he deserved.” “We can’t have that kind of thing around here, corrupting our town.” The man’s voice lowered. “I heard he was drunk as a skunk.”The wor...
Weekly Contest #164
He was on a path to a better future until he ran into the bright orange, striped backpack. Eddie needed to get away, and it felt good to use his legs that morning. The train station was full of commuters. Sad, tired people with no purpose, no drive to live, not like him. From the fare gate he had heard the train pulling into the station, his train. Quickening, he took long steps in his well polished leather shoes, flashing as they caught glints of the morning light. The blood spatter was hardly noticeable. Toward the e...
Weekly Contest #163
Of Miguel’s many talents, the one he liked least was his ability to be underestimated by everyone he met. He thought it would help in his career, but really it was just annoying. Of average height and weight, curling light brown hair with stooped shoulders and a paunch, he was not attractive, nor a threat. Always ready with a quick joke, he was remarkable only for being unmemorable. His light brown complexion could be of several nationalities, and his voice was lost in crowds. He was a cypher in more ways than one.The last morning ...
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