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Weekly Contest #316
I knew the day I was born I'd be the most important person ever to live in Walltile, Minnesota. Of course, I didn't know then what I'd do, or why. But with a father owning a bike shop and my mother, a stay-at-home radio contest call-in, who cares why? The whole town was drowned and overdosed in sepia-toned morals anyway. A “Leave It to Beaver” backdrop on life that made you wish you had left it to Beaver and never touched it all. Copy-and-paste Tuesday line dances at the church. Copy-and-paste picnic basket school auctions like they're still...
Weekly Contest #315
I live between the Morsu trees, their tangled vines like cascading waters. The vines produce a sweet sap that coats our hollowed homes. It bathes it in hardened armor, and glues the stones to natures flesh. Our people have lived in the Morsu trees ever since the migration. We can still peek at the sky in the half sun's light from between the tapestry. Long ago Mikiah, the weaver, took the stranded lonely vines of Morsu and climbed high above to knit them together with his staff. We lost the sky, but we gained the animals that feed in the s...
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