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Weekly Contest #71
Phineas Franklin Wallinson was very angry, which was not so uncommon, and today he was mad about some flying pies. He held the flier in his knobby, hairy hands and slowly, deliberately tore the paper in half, then wadded it up, got ready to throw it in the trash, thought better of it, unwadded it, tore it up into smaller pieces, then wadded all the smaller pieces together and chucked the shreds into the garbage disposal unit connected to his sink. He savored the sound of the blades chewing up the paper into a pulp. “Pie in the Sky!” Phineas ...
Weekly Contest #70
Leonard Field watched the blurry white dot high above, longing to pull himself out of the muck at the bottom of the swamp. He was halfway submerged beneath the mud, and the rest of his body too was dark now. He clenched his right hand around a chain that happened to be splayed out across the swamp bottom, the individual links digging into his now-rugged flesh. “I can breathe out there,” he said. “Nothing is keeping me down here.” He could speak underwater, and when he did, no rush of bubbles emitted from his mouth. He did not breathe air in ...
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