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Weekly Contest #340
I used to think the house creaked because it was old. Wood shrinks. Pipes complain. Floors remember weight. That is what I told myself when the sound came from the hallway at night.I moved in after my divorce. A small, two-bedroom place on a quiet street. I wanted quiet. I wanted my son back. Caleb disappeared eleven months earlier. A seven-year-old boy with brown, curly hair. He vanished from the playground behind our old apartment in broad daylight, and with other kids around.A swing was still moving when I arrived. The police asked me to ...
Weekly Contest #329
After a peaceful night, I woke up to sunlight coming through my window. I grabbed my favorite coffee mug, poured some fresh dark roast, and sat outside to watch the birds in the trees.There’s something about early mornings outside, relaxing and watching nature wake up, that always felt therapeutic to me. Usually, I’d read something inspiring or a good crime novel, but today I couldn’t focus on anything except what I saw in the corner of my yard. I tried to stay calm. Fear can make people act impulsively and do things they regret. I remembere...
Weekly Contest #328
Early March 1985It was a frigid, blustery day when my entire family accompanied me to the airport to say goodbye.Even though I had been preparing for this event for months, it suddenly felt like bad news. Emotions ran through me, making my head spin. How could I stop this from happening? What on earth was I doing?I really had no say in the matter, and my parents had already decided that I would move across the ocean to be with my father, whom I barely knew. I've only seen him a handful of times. Sometimes he would visit for just a few days, ...
Weekly Contest #327
The sound started as a thin, whiny complaint. It quickly grew into a dramatic shriek. For a moment, it seemed something terrible had happened. The sound was loud enough to shake the windows of the quiet house nearby.The source was a fluffy, ginger cat wedged in the ‘V’ of two thick branches of an ancient oak, about fifteen feet up. Its name was Marmalade, and it was, for all intents and purposes, stuck.Inside, Marvin Pickle winced. He valued quiet—treasured it, as a curator values art. As a historian, he kept his life in neat, labeled folder...
The best sound in the world is the jingle of the car keys. It’s the sound that means the world is about to become a blur of smells and wind in my ears. It means it’s car ride time!“Car ride! Car ride!” My whole body wiggles, a tornado of happy nerves, my tail thumping a frantic rhythm against the wall. Sometimes it even hurts, but I don’t care. Car rides are my favorite!Hi. My name is Charlie, and I am a connoisseur of the open car window.Mike, my human, grunts as he grabs the keys. “C’mon, mutt.” His voice doesn’t have the happy lift it us...
Tiny bits of lint and dust floated in the Sunday morning sunlight, while George, my black German Shepherd, played among them. His big paws made a soft thumping sound on my freshly cleaned wooden floor as he chased a fly only he could see. I smiled from the kitchen, watching the pure, simple happiness on his furry face, his tongue lolling out in a doggy grin.My coffee was almost ready, and its rich, earthy smell began to fill our small house, mixing with the scent of lemon polish from my earlier cleaning.On the window shelf, where the light w...
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