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Submitted to Contest #164
Where I come from Coke is a generic work for any carbonated drink. For instance— I’ll take the fried chicken livers, green beans, and a Coke. What kinda Coke you want hon’? How ‘bout a Dr. Pepper? Where I come from sweet is the only way tea is served and potato salad has mayonnaise, mustard, and sweet pickles. Like most young people, I suppose, I hated my hometown. I was young and impatient, and the place I came from was in no big hurry. Mostly though, I couldn’t wait to escape the claustrophobic gentility tha...
Submitted to Contest #140
Maureen McConnell lay awake but kept her eyes tightly closed. Maybe, she thought, Maybe, everything will be normal again. Maybe, I will open my eyes and see my white bedroom curtains dancing in the warm morning breeze. But when Maureen finally let her lashes flutter open, all she saw was cheap commercial grade pleated drapes in muted shades of green and yellow. The window could not even be opened. Maureen knew this was not her home. This was not her bed. Those were not her vomit-colored curtains. As she cast about trying to orient herself,...
Submitted to Contest #92
Night Owl I don’t sleep much; never have. I remember Momma telling me to just close my eyes. “Little girls need their rest,” she would whisper as she slipped from my bedroom. But I would lie in my small canopy bed staring at the lilac ruffles above me and cry in frustration because I could not obey her. Eventually I realized that it did not matter, sleep is not all it is cracked up to be. Tonight, instead of tears of frustration, I lay listening to the night sounds of my house. Ben, my husband, lays next to me. As usual, he has twisted...
Submitted to Contest #68
“Please. May I have one more minute with my sister?” The guard hesitates but when I turn the full force of my tear filled blue eyes upon him, he relents. “Make it quick though. The warden does not like to wait.” My identical twin sister, Becca, sits in an orange prison jumpsuit on a hard metal cot. I look into her eyes, a mirror of my own, now dimmed and hazy from the injection the prison doctors prescribed to keep her calm. I guess I would be pretty worked up too...
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