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Submitted to Contest #272
The ImpulseThe flower tattoo is the first glimpse of my impulse. Standing behind her in line, my eyes draw down the black ink starting from the back of her ear, down her neck. It’s dainty and delicate…somehow that symbolizes her. I unlock my phone and research the bell shaped flowers and find they're called lily of the valley. They symbolize purity, humility, sweetness and joy. It says the flowers have a sweet fragrance to them…as does she. I can smell her even though I’m a few steps behind. I take a step closer, small enough that she doesn’...
Submitted to Contest #255
I can’t sleep. I heard once somewhere that if you can’t sleep it’s because you’re awake in someone else’s dream. I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be terrifying or romantic. I don’t really believe in that stuff anyway, but being awake at three in the morning, staring at the moon, makes me think about it. My life…there’s little joy in it. There’s nothing but pain, terror, and death. I couldn’t save my mother from my father. Couldn’t save my father from himself. The responsibility of caring for my little brother bared a heavy weight across my...
Submitted to Contest #254
I never thought I’d see the day when loud music booming from the speakers bothered me. The entire dance floor is surrounded by speakers. The only place where you can have a decent conversation is in the middle of the dance floor. Of course I stand out since I’m the tallest person here. That’s not on them or me, their age range is from eleven to thirteen. I got stuck chaperoning my daughter’s dance. And if I didn’t feel old before I certainly do now.I’ve found myself at the punch table, grabbing a water as she steps into my view. She’s fussin...
June is upon us dearest neighbor. It often feels like new beginnings for some of us, be it weddings, graduations or simply the start of summer. It seems that with the arrival of summer, many think there isn’t much to happen in our small town. Joining neighbors in the stands as our high school team plays whatever sport in season is over. Youths roam free, no longer restricted from the eight to three schedule. But just because school is no longer in session, doesn’t mean that the gossip of this town ends. Where should this curious neighbor beg...
Submitted to Contest #229
*Sensitive content: grief/pregnancy loss mentioned* There is something about coming back to this small town for the holidays. It’s got all the makings of a holiday movie. Fresh snow on the ground, festive lights hung through main street, Michael Bublé’s Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas playing on my car radio for probably the hundredth time on my eight hour drive here. The town residents are spread throughout main street, some window shopping, others actually shopping last minute gifts, and some eating at the little cafés spread down...
Submitted to Contest #218
A rather throbbing beat rings in your ears as rain patters across a cobblestone path. Your boots make a slight thud, a minor squeak from the rubber soles against the hard stones. The sound of sloshing water as you walk. Light tapping hits your raincoat as you toss your hood on in haste. Even in your raincoat and boots you can feel the cold, wet rain trying to seep into your skin. A yellow warm light draws your attention down the cobblestone path to reveal a hidden bookshop sitting at the end of the dark alley. The smell of the alley is cold ...
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