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Weekly Contest #344
“I’ve never seen the road like this. So quiet, so empty,” Dennis says to his lone passenger.The passenger, a tall gentleman in a fur coat, has a rugged face, salt and pepper hair; a man the ladies might refer to as distinguished. He carries a cane and a hat but uses neither except as props for his hands. He sits in the exact middle of the back of the limo, no seat belt.Dennis, a middle-aged man who will never in his life be called distinguished, is not just making small talk with his passenger. He’s truly, honestly astounded at the quiet of ...
Weekly Contest #343
I sweep my hand across the table to reach for my phone and instead hit a glass of ice water, sending it spinning on its axis. It turns and turns and the ice clinks and the water swishes and as I stare at the turning glass and my mind fast forwards to the immediate future, where the glass stops spinning and falls on its side, spilling water and ice all over the table and onto the floor. The waitress runs over with some too thin paper towels and I grab the napkins off the table while stuttering an embarrassed apology to her and my embarrassed ...
Weekly Contest #341
They had gone shopping for decorations for her party, just the usual accouterments: balloons, a centerpiece for the cake and gifts table, some streamers. At the last minute they spied a silver and gold banner that read AND NOW WE ARE 40 and she thought how childlike it was, a statement from someone who was embracing a birthday rather than dreading it. She put it in their cart and, for the first time since they started planning the party, she felt hopeful about her impending age. This gathering would be just what she needed. The morning of he...
Weekly Contest #335
It is five o’clock and she makes her way to the kitchen, the way she always does, always will, long after the routine has ceased to be necessary. She takes out the cast iron skillet. It’s heavy in her hand and its weight feels good, like she’s holding on to something other than emptiness. She stands by the stove with pan in hand. It pulls her arm down and it’s not until she lets go and it bangs heavily on the tiled floor that she remembers she was holding it. There’s a chip in the floor now, but it doesn’t matter. She made up her mind. She’l...
Weekly Contest #333
On her fifth day alone, she woke up, got dressed, moved to the kitchen, and started to prepare. It’s what she did every year on his birthday. She knew making the German chocolate cake—his favorite and her least favorite—would be emotional. But she thought he might come back because he missed the cake, missed her annual love letter as birthday greeting, missed her. Waking up alone on his birthday would be sad for him, she thought. She pushed aside the idea that he wasn’t actually alone. No, that isn’t what it’s about. The problem was, she rea...
Weekly Contest #314
It was day six of the heat wave when Mr. Jacob's funeral procession approached. But just as they could hear the tires of the pick up truck nearing the house, Matthew's mother shooed him into the shed and told him to watch from there. He was grimy, his mother said. No place for grimy children up front. He hadn’t meant to get dirty, but it was hot and thick outside and all the dust and loose blacktop stuck to his sweat. Besides, he really didn’t want to be up front. All the commotion scared him a bit and from the way the other kids were talkin...
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