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Submitted to Contest #242
Afterwards, Ned and Alice recalled the details of those encounters in the entrance hall of London’s Natural History Museum: what was said, what was seen, and what shadows were thrown by the gigantic dinosaur skeleton that loomed over everything. Studying ancient life allowed them to understand how an epoch had ended. They were relieved to say goodbye to those old bones, and to move on. 1. As Nick took a step back, the stranger bumped into him. They faced each other below Dippy the Diplodocus, the dinosaur’s vertebrae curv...
Submitted to Contest #221
‘Large or small?' said Alice, but she knew Joe couldn't hear her, not yet. She twisted the metal top off the bottle, poured two large Primitivos, clinked glasses and drank from one, then the other. Then she put down the wine, took a marker from her pocket, and wrote ‘Hey, Joe’ in cursive script on a sheet of A4. She opened the lid of the photocopier, put the paper face-down on the glass, closed it and pressed SCAN. The machine whirred, the light beam moved across, and a sheet dropped into the tray. Then she sipped from her glass and waited ...
Submitted to Contest #209
TwistClaire gunned the car up the hill, the road ahead gleaming in the moonlight, relieved to get away from Dave. She had sat there, seething, as he emptied most of a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen of their holiday cabin.‘Couldn’t help it, Claire. I fell in love.’His eyes were luminous with alcohol and regret. Claire had been gratified to see little wrinkles of irritation on her husband’s face, a sign the gloss was already coming off his mid-life office romance. He was most unattractive when he got drunk. Usually she would haul his slight ...
Shortlisted for Contest #200 ⭐️
Monday’s Child Monday's child is fair of face/ Tuesday's child is full of grace/Wednesday's child is full of woe/ Thursday's child has far to go/Friday's child is loving and giving/ Saturday's child works hard for a living/And the child that is born on the Sabbath day/Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay. (19th Century English Nursery Rhyme) On a Monday, you wake up in your lonely bed to the tang of aircraft fuel and the roar of yet another early morning jet. You adjust your ineffective earplugs and wish you were Beyoncé...
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