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Weekly Contest #356
Diary Entry – 20th May Today is about a million degrees. The banana trees my mum planted are swaying – and singing – in the breeze that rises up the mountain we live on. I'm lying in the hammock staring up at the upside-down ocean, the great drooping leaves littering the relentless sun through their frayed edges. Sweat lines up on my forehead. It feels like my entire body is being cradled, just as mum did when I was a baby. I miss her. It's been almost three years since she disappeared, but I look for her every day. If I don't go and I don't...
Weekly Contest #353
“Then, of course, there’s the man who lived in the mountains.” Your 80-year-old grandmother’s thick South Wales accent bellows, snapping you and your sister to attention. You look at her and can’t help but feel a blend of warmth and fear. Your sister glances at you with an understated smile that bears the weight of your shared childhood. “I always believed grandad,” she said, turning to you. So did you, you thought. Your grandad spent his life talking about nature. He was never one to stray too far into the trees, but you’d often find him fe...
Weekly Contest #320
Douai: A Short Story The forest shimmered with ethereal dust. Hiding the horizon, its magnitude was both contained and endless. Tree trunks curved, drooped, and cracked. Their leaves, never touching, canopied the great blue sky. Sun burst through the small but plentiful gaps, giving way to a mismatch of fallen trunks, crooked branches, rocks, and, tucked up in a tree deep in the forest, a young boy.Nestled under nature’s blanket, he gently rubbed his eyes awake. The immediate sun, bright as it was, failed to intimidate the young boy’s vision...
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