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Weekly Contest #70
"Dylan, get up. We're late," I said, shaking my brother from his slumber. Dylan was younger than me by eleven and a half months. Mom called us her Irish twins, an expression that made no sense to me. We looked nothing alike. Dylan looked like Mom, with green eyes and curly brown hair, and I took after Dad, brown eyes, straight blond hair. "I'm coming. Just hang on a sec, Finn," Dylan said as he rubbed his eyes awake, his hair sticking out in all directions. We stumbled downstairs but paused when we heard voic...
Weekly Contest #68
Fiona turned to Ben and said, "I have to tell you something." "Okay, shoot. Fi, you know you can tell me anything," Ben said. "Just don't say you hate Thanksgiving." He chuckled and then shot me a sideways glance. "Wait. What? You don't like Thanksgiving?" "It's not that at all. As you know, my family is Australian, and Australians don't really do Thanksgiving." "Yeah, but you grew up in Canada. They have Thanksgiving there." "Canadian Thanksgiving. It's different, or at least it was for us. It wasn't a big holiday for us. Your family, ...
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