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Weekly Contest #97
The window shattered with only two strikes of the tire iron. In movies, the storefront always breaks so easily for the assailant—cracking with the throw of a stone or the swing of a hammer. Ruth thought it would be different, like maybe Hollywood had simplified things for the viewer, because no one wanted to watch someone swinging at the glass for thirty minutes. She stood back, pleased, and gave the glass around the edges of the now-demolished pane a couple of kicks with the sharp heel of her hot-pink pointed-toe shoes to remove any broken...
Weekly Contest #96
The stranger seemed to float down the street. Broad shoulders and a tall physique gave him away as a man who was not born on this side of the continent. He was not from this town.His dark cloak billowed behind him like the night, sweeping its soiled hem along the ground.I watched him through the rain-spattered window, curiously, as did the other patrons in the tavern. When he crossed the street toward the pub, we collectively returned to our drinks or meals. A soft rustling of conversation struck up as the door slammed open in the wind, lett...
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