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Weekly Contest #329
The bright curtains were drawn back, engulfing the diner in a brusque pale December light. The waitresses moved swiftly, placing cups and plates between plastic carnations. Willow sat alone in the corner booth, her elbows on the grey window ledge, watching the Main Street wake up. An elderly couple passed, hand in hand, matching each other’s pace and steadying without thought. Willow’s curious gaze traced them, drawn to them by a flicker of familiarity. The overhanging bell of the door announced their entry a moment later and the couple sat...
Weekly Contest #235
The warmth of his bed is pleasant like a kiss of sunlight on my skin, it’s like dancing in a yellow sundress on the last day of summer, drunk on wine and barefoot in the grass. I probably should remember getting here, but there must’ve been too much alcohol last night, because I don’t. The sheets wrapped around my body smell like him, and all of his things are exactly the way I remember them being. The ‘I love NYC’ coffee cup is next to his notebook, the glasses he always forgets to wear are on his shut laptop, and this sense of familiarity ...
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