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Weekly Contest #148
“Mrs. Gleason! My favorite mediator!” The Griffin Apartments East landlord stood up from his desk and walked to her with a smile. “Good morning, Tom. Again, you can call me Tamara. We’re on the same side,” she said, returning his smile. “Thank you.” He led her out of the office and down a short hall. “I wasn’t sure you’d feel that way, knowing what’s coming: 1D and 1E.” “Del Rey and Brown.” Grin in place, she closed her eyes and adjusted the strap of her leather satchel as they walked. “Again.” “Here you go. Conference Room Two. Go...
Weekly Contest #146
"Come on, Aoife. Please!" "It’s Eva, here. And, no. Out of the question," she shook her head. "You know that's not how this works." "Number one: no one can hear me but you, and the names are pronounced almost identically, anyway. Number two: what do you mean? That's exactly how this works!" She'd spun away from him, under the guise of checking her equipment, but Tadhg was having none of it. He jumped around her, invisible the moment he stepped out of the giant oak’s shadow. The blanket with her photo equipment remained undisturbed on the g...
Weekly Contest #142
"Hmm. You said you wanted another western…" The librarian scanned the upper shelves. "Ah. Here. Lonesome Dove. I think you'll enjoy this one." He pulled the book from its tier and handed it down to the man beside him. "What's your name, again?" "Absalom." "Absalom. Always liked ‘Absalom.’ That's my son's name,” Mr. Danberg said, scanning the book. "Hm." He held it at arms-length and peered down his nose. His mouth hung slightly open as he scanned the blurb on the jacket's inner fold. Snapping it closed, he smiled up at the libraria...
Weekly Contest #137
“You okay?” She nodded, trying to smile. “Fine,” she panted. He raised an eyebrow at her and frowned. He held the expression long enough for her to see his doubt, then turned his attention to the object on her palm. “That’s it?” Kennen asked, his mocha eyes narrowed. Seated beside him on the couch, Cali held a single gravel in her hand. With its rough, off-white facade, it could have come from anywhere. The hard line of his mouth said Kennen thought the same. “It’s supposed to look like this,” she said, dragging air into her lungs. She was s...
Weekly Contest #132
“I’ve got you! Just hold on! Hold on!” He pushed the water with one arm, and prayed it’d propel them to the riverbank a little faster than possible. The woman in his other arm coughed and struggled to breathe as water spilled over her face. He thought he could feel her kicking, occasionally–trying to help, he hoped–as they approached the muddy ledge. “Here,” he panted, when they finally reached the bank, “hold on… Can you?” He pressed her hands to the cool grass and held onto her until her feet found purchase in the slippery mudbank. He pu...
Weekly Contest #130
“You will not go in there!” she hissed. The man closed his eyes and sighed. A breeze stirred the trees outside. Through the window, their shadows fell and quavered from the barred door to the other side of the hallway. Then he was in front of her. “I must,” he said. The words were softly spoken, but his jaw clenched after them and his eyes would not release hers. “No. Not this time,” the woman replied, shaking her head. Moonlight spilled through the window and crossed the new mother's face, contrasting her cheeks with the dark smud...
Weekly Contest #129
The warm summer rain tried to melt the winter snow, while the latter fought back. The result was a perpetual ice sheet, several inches thick, that jutted from the walled gap between the two front doors. On one side all was green and warm golden; on the other, all was a frozen, silver-white sparkle. Analise had noticed a similar ice sheet, occasionally, between the windows on the two upper floors; but that was more rare, due to the pitch and depth of the wooden gable above them. Analise stood before the ground-level sheet and studied it, as ...
Weekly Contest #128
“You look like you have a lot on your mind. Here, dear. This will ease it.” Delicate, wrinkled hands passed a porcelain cup and saucer to calloused, young ones. The old hands were much more steady with the fragile, floral and gold-trimmed dishes. “Um, thanks,” Pete nodded. He hesitated, watching the older woman as she poured another cup. A pungency of boiling herbs, dried flowers, and a million spices hovered in the air. As Jaycee had guided him to the tea bar and gift shop a short time earlier, the scent had greeted them long before ...
Weekly Contest #126
“You don’t know what you ask, little one,” he whispered. The man who moved like shadows checked his measuring stick, again. “A shorter life would be better. You could die at fifty-six. That would be a good time for you.” “No,” came the reply from the woven cradle. From outside frogs and insects sang their nightly chorus, obscuring the other sounds in the small house. The newborn wiggled in his crib, but no one dared check on him, right now: it was midnight, and the dark grey man would be there. The man tried to mask a sigh as he continue...
Weekly Contest #125
The clockmaker’s mansion overlooked the town. Built on the foundation of a scorched castle, she’d inherited the home from whose window she now watched the sky deepen over the sleepy town. She was tired, too. A full-night’s rest didn’t enter her musings, though–not anymore... Taking a last sip of tea, she laid down. She didn’t change into bedclothes–she didn’t own any. They seemed pointless and inconvenient, given her nocturnal routine. The town looked sleepy, but she knew better. There, tonight, time would start, stop, or do both; it would c...
The church smelled of old stone. A distinct smell: a little musty, like fresh dirt, though not as strong, and with a cool layer John could only think of as mineral (although he couldn’t have described what mineral smelled like). It reminded him of historic churches he’d visited in Ireland. They were ancient compared to this one, but it was old for a Christian church in the U.S. Maybe because it doesn’t get a lot of traffic out here, he thought. The church was in a rural area, within a national forest. It lay, nearly hidden, two roads ...
Weekly Contest #123
I rose from the stage floor–I couldn’t remember why I’d fallen–and peered down at my husband. He came! It was my last show. I was really retiring, this time, I’d told him (truth was, I was more of a liability than an asset, at my age, so I was encouraged to take a final bow); but I refused to get my hopes up that he would come. And, then, there he was. He looked as dapper as ever in his black suit. It was too dark to see its color as he took his seat, but I knew that suit. I recognized how it moved on him, and how he moved in it. I knew all...
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