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Weekly Contest #171
I see him – my father. I see him through badly drawn smiling faces and matchstick people on a canvas of condensation. I watch him poke and prod his lips until he hits the target with what he thinks is his second last cigarette. I watch him follow the young couple up the steps and through the doors of the Pilot's Diner. I watch him idle by the same door, only now it's closed, scratching his brain, wondering what to do next. Finally, I raise my hand and reluctantly summon him while I lower my head and lean into the menu. With any luck, the ol'...
Weekly Contest #169
Lucas flips his jack-o’-lantern candy bucket and empties it onto the kitchen table when his Mom, Nancy, spots something. She stops what she’s doing, leans over the table, and asks, ‘Lucus, what’s this?’ Lucus spreads the candy as evenly as possible and considers a Butterfinger over some Sour Patch Kids. He hears: ‘Lucus, I’m talking to you,’ and shrugs his shoulders. ‘It looks like a note,’ Nancy adds.‘Big deal,’ Lucus replies. ‘I’ve gotten worse.’Nancy unfolds the note and reads it. ‘Lucus, did y...
Weekly Contest #165
London– 1952, although the fog appears to be at its worst, I have more pressing matters to attend to. For one, my diamond is still missing. Worse still, my colleagues and I are accusing one another of murder. It began eleven months ago on a bitterly cold morning in January. I was waiting to board a train in Fort William, a town in the western Scottish Highlands on the shores of Loch Linnhe. My destination was Mallaig, a small fishing port and gateway to the Isle of Skye. There I was to meet a man known as The Count. A business opportuni...
Weekly Contest #82
In front of a non-descript store-front on a busy Manhattan street, Helen Gil saw something that caught her eye. ‘Let us make you H – APP – Y,’ it read. So obscure was this suggestion that Helen leaned in and immediately wondered if the person who wrote it actually wanted anyone to see it considering how they’d situated the silver writing on the right-hand corner of a rather large glass pane. Helen had only stopped after a burly man inadvertently struck her while she was sipping from her coffee cup, and yet here she was pe...
Weekly Contest #80
I heard a rumor. A rumor that the soldiers are using leather straps, a tree stump, and a mallet to break wrists. “It’s to stop us from talking,” Ingeborg whispers. “Can’t you hear the screams?”I answer no, say, “My bunk is on the West Wing; therefore, any scream would lose its momentum before it reaches my window.” Ingeborg speaks with her eyes; therefore, I don’t doubt her when she says she can still hear screams long after they’ve stopped. “Long after the sun has set,” she says. There is silence, and Ingeborg begins to ...
Weekly Contest #79
'What's he doing here?'The look on Ruth Jenkins' face suggested she thought she had more time.'Red, please. Now is not the time,' she said.'What, you can't speak now, is that it?' Red asked, pointing, not at his wife but the figure in the corner.'Merry Christmas, Dad. I –''I knew it was you,' Red interrupted. 'The minute I saw them, I knew it was you.''Saw what, Red? What did you see?' Ruth asked.'Shoe prints! Dirty shoe prints on my hall floor and the blades of grass he dragged in with him,' Red said.'You jumped the wall...
Weekly Contest #77
Quintin Short sat comfortably by the window, watching as another layer of snow blanketed his backyard. On his lap was a book.“How can you read at a time like this?” “Christiana, when did you get here?”Quintin’s reaction, although one of surprise, was slightly subdued.“Never mind that,” she said. “I want to know how you can read at a time like this?”Quinten reached for his bookmark – an outdated coupon – that had fallen between his legs and slipped it between two pages.“If you don’t mind?” he asked, turning. After Christiana accepted the...
Weekly Contest #67
At nine-pm on a cold Wednesday night in Odessa, the small Alaskan city thirteen miles North of the city of Fairbanks, Liz Sanford bid her last customer of the night a merry Christmas and advised him on the treacherous last step to avoid spending the holidays in the hospital. While Matt Lojewski – Odessa’s resident Santa Claus – climbed into his Subaru Outback, Liz killed the front lights and cast a shadow on the Skyline Diner’s chrome exterior. A moment later, she was the other side of the counter, massaging her...
Weekly Contest #66
Shawn wasn’t sure why his stepdad put the duct tape there before they left home early yesterday morning, but it was now flapping in the wind.“You okay back there? You haven’t said much since the turn–”Mia stopped talking when she felt something butt against her ribs, and she looked down to see a bottle of water.“That is... if – you don’t mind?”“What’s that supposed to mean, Deacon?” Mia asked.“Look, will you just empty the bottle so I can clean the windshield.”When Mia told Deacon what she thought of him with her eyes, Deacon ...
Weekly Contest #65
Outside, the snow was three feet deep.While inside, under cover of The Shamrock, Griffin was adjusting his trapper hat for what Kit Stevens reckoned was the tenth time.‘Nice hat, Griff. Where did you get it?’ he asked.‘Mollie – birthday present.’Kit considered this and asked, ‘Is that so? Happy belated birthday, I guess. I’m not good with dates, you know, and I often wonder why?’‘Perhaps if you came up for air every once and a while, you might save a brain cell or two.’Griffin was referring to the amount of marijuana Kit Stevens smoked...
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