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Weekly Contest #369
Richard studied the cabinet, sagging beneath the weight of the papers like a soggy slice of bread. “Keep or toss?”“Keep, of course,” said his older brother, John, as he added a stitch of tape to the bottom of a moving box. Richard’s fingernails dug into his palms as he protested, “But they’re just outdated grocery store circulars.”“That compendium took over eight months to compile. They’ll be hot sellers on eBay when the market picks back up.”Richard’s chest tightened as he bit back his anger.Nothing with John ever made sense. Like the summe...
Weekly Contest #192
The humidity in the air drew out the smell of pee and death from the carpet in the hallway, and Ree had had enough. She’d been syphoning off small bills from the purses of her daughter, granddaughter, and even her great-granddaughter’s best friend when they turned their backs during their bi-weekly visits and, to date, there was $98 stashed away in the breast pocket of her blue suit dress. She chose it because, if she happened to die before she got the chance to spend it, it’d go to the grave with her. (She’d earned it, after all, hadn’t she...
Weekly Contest #139
The thing is, even though Rev’s the one who’s always been nice to me, I married his stupid brother instead. Why? Well, you can’t exactly marry the brother of the guy who knocked you up, right? At least that’s what Mammaw said. She said, “Darlin, you’re gonna marry the sunnuva dog who knocked you up. So who was it?” I said it was Tak Bullock (cause it was) and that settled that. On the day of our divorce (which Tak had not contested cept that he filed for full custody of Austin and Bella, which wasn’t happening over my dead body, eve...
Weekly Contest #120
I still remember the day my sister was kidnapped. Guess I should since I had to rehash it about a thousand times. I was mad at her over something stupid, so I rode my bike like mad home from the park. I thought, if I could get there fast enough, I’d have time to play with her Crissy doll and braid her hair. Oh, that reminds me what we’d been fighting about. Barbara said Crissy’s hair couldn’t be French braided, but I wanted to show her it could. Turns out I couldn’t French braid anyway, but since Barbara didn’t come home, I had plenty of ti...
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