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Weekly Contest #341
“Come on, punch me in the face!” The old man looked at Gecko as though he was completely crazy. He’d been enthusiastically waving his red gloves under the buzzing fluorescent light. Gecko was not particularly fond of his boxing coach. So, as he did with all noteworthy things in his life, he found a name for him. Harbinger was an old man with a white patch of hair plastered over his bronze head. His wifebeater was stained with sweat and other things. “We’re sparring, kid. Relax. This is your first day. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He showed a row...
Weekly Contest #333
The grumbling of the world shook the pantry shelves. Sacks of flour and tiny packets of spices tumbled to the floor and mingled their contents. Jars hopped and crashed, spouting shards and foul-smelling jam everywhere. My fingers trembled under the weight of little packets of baking powder, and another growl sent them to the floor. I could not do this. How could anyone? “Psst...” I spun and looked at the large blob of flesh standing beside me. It was a marvellous sight. Put simply, he was a giant moving head with feet g...
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