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Weekly Contest #326
“What y’all, good?”Click.“What-at’s, go-od, chy-all?”Click.“Yo…” Mike could only utter one syllable before breaking into uncontrollable snorting.“Mike, you are never doing the intros again,” Ben sighed. “Take four,” Cameraman Dajuan yelled. “What’s good, ninjas?” Mike’s smile stretched to the edges of his face. It only took four reshoots and twelve minutes of backyard Ke-ke-ke’ing to get Mike to act professional. Honestly, a marked improvement over the fifteen minutes it took last month.“So, y’all already know what’s up. We're the Ronin tea...
Weekly Contest #316
“Isaiah…” Everyone else was dead. “Isaiah!”Torn into tendons by teeth or tungsten.“ISAIAH!” The black lasers and electro set building the rave up were still in motion. And his favorite mix was playing, too.”“LOOK AT ME, ISAIAH!” Ihwa, Isaiah’s breakcore-loving girlfriend, music enthusiast, and moments ago, a hot pink SIG MCX carbine, was begging him with crosshair eyes to come back to her. “LOOK AT ME!” A trail of blood was approaching them. “What the fuck is going on?”“No time to explain.“What the fuck is that thing?!”“No time to explain. P...
Weekly Contest #315
CW: References to substance abuse “Hurry up!” Michelle hissed. “He’ll be here in less than 30 minutes.” The decorations were set. The ribbons were draped. An Oreo cake was gifted and frozen as the cherry on top of this special night.Michelle was pushing everyone about. His nieces, their grandparents, and his homeboy Tony, who delivered the fountain drinks. Yes, oh yes, today would be a surprise party he would not believe.As for whom the surprise was meant for, he was finishing his invoices at work. 4:39 pm. A full half-hour over his shift’s ...
Weekly Contest #309
David walked the bridge as a zombie in static. “The night bled— the streetlights smeared messy like oil paint. He breathed lazily, indifferent-- each inhale a job to clock out of. The weight in his chest hadn’t loosened in months, maybe years. He hadn’t spoken to a real person in so long that he looked elsewhere for “company.” He remembered it hazily. He vented an AI chat. One programmed to flirt, soothe, pretend. His favorite character had a soft name. He gave her…it…the version of himself he wanted to be before reality got to him, and he t...
Weekly Contest #304
“The first challenge every pro writer must face is deadlines,” After class, Professor Markle put an inbox in the assignment tab and a description. “The most common excuse I here from aspiring writers who never have anything on their paper is that they don’t have the time. Between classes, supporting the family, a full-time job and kids, I can’t make it happen every day. I had all of these things before I was 30, and I made it happen.” Here he goes again with the gloating. “This assignment is a contest. Write a short story about a time, real ...
“The first challenge every pro writer must face is deadlines,”After class, Professor Markle put an inbox in the assignment tab and a description. “The most common excuse I here from aspiring writers who never have anything on their paper is that they don’t have the time. Between classes, supporting the family, a full-time job and kids, I can’t make it happen every day. I had all of these things before I was 30, and I made it happen.” Here he goes again with the gloating. “This assignment is a contest. Write a short story about a time, real ...
Weekly Contest #297
“Mrs. Webb, what about the homework you assigned over break?” That’s all I needed to say to have five VERY bad kids in my algebra class after my throat. So, let me set the atmosphere. I’m Max, it’s the end of Monday after spring break at Frederick Douglass Junior Academy. Mrs. Webb, our algebra teacher, took her job seriously enough to give us a trigonometry pamphlet over the break. I did all of mine before I even clicked the TV on, and turned it in with a smile. But it was definitely me against the world here. A minority of students wal...
Weekly Contest #285
Outside the windows poured a river that fell from the clouds. The brick walls that boxed me in bled a dark damp grey. All I had to do was utter one sentence to revive that frozen ambiance from the day she died. The mom was holding her face. She wasn’t crying yet, but I knew she knew this topic would reopen suppressed wounds. Then there was the dad. His black-yellow thousand-yard scowl locked me in a seat at the table. Fine by me. My sanity depended upon this. If sitting was as far as I could go, I’ll be joining her soon enough as compensatio...
Weekly Contest #267
Note: This story contains elements of sexuality and strong language. I made some of the character speak as stereotypes to fit the message. It's also very long, and I Just wanted to let the readers know, beforeheand. There are no years in your life quite as memorable as your youth. When you are young, you can be fun, you can be stupid, you don’t have to do the things you don’t want to do. Every preceding year, from four years old to 18 years old, you are handed a platter of people to know, people to love in life, before idling 60 hours of ...
Weekly Contest #250
“You. Me. A Live Skunk. What are we going to do with it? Prank Ms. Donovan, of course! I can see it already. Uh Oh! There was a wee little misplacement we made, bagging her precious Hanukkah Wishlist. She takes it home after nine to five and crashes out on the romance novel piles on her couch. She blacks out, then she wakes up. She’s surrounded. By what you ask? Musk, a STINKY musk. A musk so thick and potent you could feel its stench ball up in your hands. You know what that means. The stench drives in the fight or flight response. She wan...
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