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Submitted to Contest #215
I stare into the expanse of sea, turquoise and slate. The waters are warmer and calmer. When the plankton thrive, gentle giant whale sharks skim the surface with their enormous jaws open. They should be monsters like me if you consider their size. But they don’t offer any threat. We used to dance alone with them, until the humans came. Many come now. Which makes some merfolk hungrier for flesh. The whale sharks feast on the plankton, and merfolk feast on the humans. Humans don’t seem unintelligent, despite the stories. Bu...
Submitted to Contest #86
🐿 Zainab walked into the backyard with her mug of steaming tea and a thick book. Finally, Saturday. No rules, no homework, no sixth grade. Spring break was here, and her best friend had left town. It was the first year her Baba didn’t sign her up for a camp, and she was all about it. This was just how she wanted to spend it. Alone, reading, and gorging herself on butter cookies and honey-lemon tea. She surely wouldn’t head onto the trail on spring break. They’d all promised her that she could lay low. After placing he...
Submitted to Contest #83
Content warning: war Amara stands on the shore, shifting in the cool wind. In the time it has taken to stand here, Amara has grown a full inch. Shouldn’t this moment feel bigger, too? She squints to see any speck of the island across the sea. Chios. A gorgeous beach to tourists. To the people waiting here on Cesmus, it is a door that leads to an entire new world. Greece. Europe. Safety. Maybe even home. Amara just wants to get this last part done. But this crossing, like all of the others, means starting wi...
Submitted to Contest #77
Wednesday “Mom, please, just this once.” Katie pleaded into the line. “I’m perfectly happy here. In my bedroom. I don’t need to go out socializing.” “I heard you haven’t been to any activities for weeks. They have arthritis yoga, gardening...” “I don’t have arthritis!” Mary interrupted, gripping the phone tighter. Katie sighed, and her mother waited for the tears that always followed when her oldest was frustrated, but pleased that they didn’t work on her like they did on her late husband. “I can’t be social ev...
Submitted to Contest #71
Isabelle lifted the recipe card and tried, yet again, to decipher the smudged instructions at the bottom. The last two ingredients and all the assembly steps faded into the water stain, unchanged from the last time she looked. The kitchen timer whirred. The latest attempt at Nana’s cookies had cooled enough to be tasted. She lifted one of the golden circles off the rack, brought it to her mouth and bit down. This batch was better. It had the snap she remembered. The shape and color were right, the edges impeccably dressed with their g...
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