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Weekly Contest #317
We hadn't seen each other in five months. That was what we agreed on. Five months, while arbitrary, was what my therapist and I had worked out during our (what felt like hundredth) call about the break. She thought five months would be a fair amount of time for someone to work through something and find a path to recovery. A fair amount of time for me to stop clinging and start breathing without him. Enough time for him to prove to himself and to me...that he could.Standing in the doorway, I didn’t know what exactly I was expecting. Maybe fo...
Weekly Contest #315
The good thing about having a birthday in early February is that it comes quickly - ripped off like a fresh bandage. No long buildup, no mounting anticipation, no ballooning expectations. Just a sudden arrival, a day or two of attention, and then back to life as usual. The bad thing is that your wish has nearly eleven months to let you down. That’s plenty of time to watch your life move forward, unchanged, no matter how tightly you close your eyes during your birthday wish or how fiercely you believe. Today is August 12th. My half birthday. ...
Weekly Contest #314
She sat up, groaning softly as the rusty springs of the mattress pressed against her spine. Her elbows dug into the scratchy, slightly musty-smelling comforter as she scanned the room. The overhead fan rotated with a slow, uneven wobble, casting warped shadows across the ceiling from the bare bulb above.Where is he? she wondered, turning toward the analog clock beside the motel’s Bible. The red hands pointed to 8:45.“Ugh,” she exhaled, falling back onto the bed, too tired and too hungry to care about whatever invisible motel-borne bacteria m...
Weekly Contest #313
She lifted her head from his shoulder, her soft brown curls swaying slightly with the motion. Slowly, she looked up at him. Her blue eyes searched the corner of his, the part just barely visible while his gaze remained fixed on the TV. A rerun of Seinfeld played on the small screen in front of them.A laugh track murmured in the background.A sound too familiar now to mean much.His face squeezed gently, the kind of almost-smile that wasn’t meant for laughing, but for listening. His brow lifted slightly, the muscles around his eyes softening. P...
Weekly Contest #311
Alama was born on July 12, 2025. Seven pounds, six ounces. Her mother said she “flew out,” like a bird being released from a box at a wedding ceremony - sudden, graceful, a burst of life. With her father’s bold, bright eyes and the curl of her mother’s hair, she entered the world as if she already knew it had something waiting for her. Her skin was warm and pink, her cry soft but sure. Her heart, her mother swore, already carried a kindness.It was Maria and Jeorge’s first child. The entire pregnancy had been a balancing act - between work an...
Weekly Contest #309
I never imagined I’d be living alone at 33. Like many girls, I once sketched my future in soft colors. Wedding dresses, children’s laughter, a house filled with the steady rhythm of shared life.That was the story I was handed.The one I painted with the colors the world gave me.But life had its own palette. The small wedding fund my mother had quietly saved over the years was handed to me instead - reluctantly, hesitantly - as a down payment on a small house. A house with sunken front steps and soot-stained bricks, the kind of black that seem...
Weekly Contest #273
I've just received a letter, a letter in the mail.The letter asked thatIJoin the League of the International Spy.Yes, you heard that right. Me.A spy.Internationally.The first one in my family.What an honor, what an achievement. They've asked me to keep it a secret.So, it's important that you don't tell anyone, not a soul. If you do - I'll find out.When I'm in my next role.What's that, you ask? Well, let me tell you - I've been thinking of a plan - but keep it between us two.I will quit my job at the bank. No more bank telling for me. No tell...
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