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Weekly Contest #105
Most people don’t anticipate meeting an axe murderer right when they walk into their home. It would be a rather strange meeting, mused Alice, as she wrestled with the doorknob. Strange, but not unexpected. Well, not to her. There wasn’t much she didn’t expect anymore. Said axe murderer placed a pale hand on her shoulder before her bright pink flip-flop shod feet could even touch the floor of the small entranceway. Surprised in spite of herself, Alice lurched forward and stumbled into a chokehold. “Ah…she falls ...
Weekly Contest #102
If I close my eyes, I could imagine I am in the right place. I could drape myself in the gentle whites and glittering silvers of my wedding gown, interpret the throbbing beat of a hundred foot soldier’s boots against the dock as trumpets and drums, change the soft sweaty hand in mines into the gentle clasp of a man’s rough fingers. If I close my eyes, my country wouldn’t have been burnt to ashes and dreams, and I wouldn’t be waiting to board the blood and sweat and tear stained deck of a slave galley. I wouldn’t be gazing at rows of sil...
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