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Weekly Contest #337
Aurelian’s hum pours across the crystallised cliffs of Caelion.The current is delicately washed against the stone; it could be easily mistaken for water sliding over glass. He shifts the tone higher, watching the ground slowly bending to resemble a faintly glowing ribbon.“That’s it,” A call comes from behind, “The resonant path.”His smile grows wide, the power of their world holding its breath for him, awaiting his next tune always felt this overpowering. Aurelian's fingers tremble as the ground continues to shift below him, neck tight conta...
Weekly Contest #333
A tingle begins at his fingertips, crawling its way down to his shoulder. An eons worth of ache holding him hostage.The blossomed cherry tree flushes eternally of glistening rosy fruit, and infuriatingly two inches too high to reach with dried out leaves hovering close enough to brush but too far to be gripped.When Zeus was unhappy, nobody was safe. Especially not the guy who served them his own son for supper. He would never know his downfall would become legend. Everyone knows the tale of the man punished to never eat or drink again. His t...
Weekly Contest #331
CW: Contains themes and/or references to murder and distress At exactly 6.58am his darling wife Sandra places a steaming mug of black coffee onto their teal set of matching coasters.At 7.05am his wife and the boys flee to school in the family's Mitsubishi Outlander while Edward soaks in the glorious twenty minutes of serene silence before leaving himself.He rides the tube until 8am with a hand tucked into his tweed jacket and the other wrapped around the hanging rail, it’s always busy.He passes the stall next to the office building at 8.15am...
Weekly Contest #330
Mum you can’t not have a sixtieth birthday party. I wished to be anywhere but in this room, where loud cheers erupt as I flush the candles of their existing flame. The room was full of over-exaggerated fancy dress, stupid frilly frocks that existed to show off a housewife’s figure. Narrow bell pants danced from side to side, a misrepresentation of the flamboyant seventies. I wanted to scowl at the inaccuracy.The party is wholly my eldest daughter's idea, and taste.Even the medallion orange of my three tiered cake is a horrid, abject shade. M...
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