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Weekly Contest #301
Disaster At Sea:The hum of the submarine’s engines was a constant companion, a low growl that vibrated through the steel walls of the torpedo room. I’d grown used to it over the months, the way it seeped into your bones, became part of you. Down here, in the belly of the USS ‘Triton’, the world was reduced to metal, machinery, and the endless rhythm of the sea. I was a torpedoman’s mate, third class, and this was my domain: the long, sleek Mark 48s lined up in their racks, the hydraulic loaders, the control panels blinking with their steady ...
Clara’s boots crunched against the frost-covered grass, each step heavier than the last. The cemetery gate loomed ahead, its rusted iron bars twisted into shapes that seemed to claw at the moonless sky. Her breath fogged in the November air, and her hands trembled as she shoved them deeper into her coat pockets. She stopped a few feet from the entrance, her heart pounding so loud she swore it echoed off the tombstones.“Come on, Clara, it’s just a bunch of old graves,” Jake said, his voice light but edged with impatience. He leaned against th...
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