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Weekly Contest #363
“Were you guys photographing fairies today?” Mira looked up from the timetable. Rain had darkened the shoulders of her jacket and curled several strands of hair against her cheeks. Something silver caught beneath the shelter’s fluorescent light. “Huh? No. My teacher would never come up with such a fantastic idea for a workshop.” “Then why do you have glitter in your hair?” “I do?” Mira dragged her fingers through it. They came away damp and sparkling. “Oh, right. I thought the stickers needed more shine, so I added glitter during lunch.” “Wh...
Weekly Contest #346
The room was so white it seemed to glow. So white it felt unfinished. It had no windows. Curiously enough, no lamps either. Mae was fairly sure foreign intelligence got locked up in such places. At the far end of the room—or what seemed like the far end, though distance was doing something funny here—there was a counter. Behind it, a clerk. They appeared to be in their late twenties, though one might be deceived by the lack of shadows on their face. Everything here was evenly lit, impossibly so. A photographer’s dream. A migraine’s too. Mae ...
Shortlisted for Contest #344 ⭐️
CW: References to murder. To our patrons: If the morning suits you, early callers now can pause awhile and read what follows in this week’s paper: several free currant buns and tarts; our assistants there wait inside the shop for such patrons as you, if they arrive at the door by 7am, just beside old Abbey, upon the main Road, at premises number 8. Attention young readers! Are penny picture papers you find at stalls hard on growing minds? Of that many schoolmasters, thinking soberly, now complain. This week an editorial is urging parents’ c...
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