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Weekly Contest #345
A HEAVY tag was placed on my suitcase: flashing orange, clashing violently with the scratched black leather. It was crinkled and scarred from past travels, the kind that looked as if it didn’t want to be here, or anywhere for that matter. Today it looked worse than usual: swollen and pregnant with a promise of a new future. Half of it was packed in an orderly fashion. The other half was chaos: wires curled like parasites through jumpers and tops, jeans I might eventually fit into again, a pair of slippers crushed sideways, and other things...
Weekly Contest #336
This is all my fault. That was my first thought on New Year’s Day. Sunlight poured through the curtains, stark and uninvited, slicing across the floor. The cold pressed against the glass. I imagined the mountains whispering to each other: There’s the girl who lost her phone on New Year’s Eve. Actually, it was stolen. I tried to push the blame away from me. Anger rushed in and shook the champagne headache out of my head. “Why would anyone want my old phone?” I paced around the small hotel room. The view of the Alps and snow kissed rooftops fa...
Weekly Contest #333
A few days after he left, I was sitting on my bed with my back against the wall, the room quiet in a way it hadn’t been while he was there. The radiator clicked on and off without committing to providing warmth. On my bedside table lay two museum tickets and a postcard I still hadn’t written. I picked up my phone the way you do when your mind gets too busy and scrolled without purpose. A notification appeared. Congratulations! Your review has been viewed 100 times. I laughed, then felt my face heat up. The review. I hadn’t thought about it ...
Weekly Contest #332
“Storm’s coming," Linda thought as she opened her eyes to a darkness so complete she wasn’t sure she’d woken at all. The moon had vanished during the night, taking with it the soft silver glow that usually seeped through her curtains. For hours she had tossed under the weight of several blankets, imagining lightning slipping through a crack in her window and striking her. Somehow, she’d fallen asleep anyway, only to wake up sweaty and tangled in sheets. Her phone blinked an apologetic 09:42. The sun was nowhere to be seen. Work was cancelled...
Weekly Contest #305
Trigger warning: this story contains depictions of a toxic relationship.He padded around the kitchen in his bare feet, dragging them in that slow, deliberate way he knew got on my nerves. The greasy pan he’d used for breakfast clattered on the hob, sticky with bacon fat, butter and charred crumbs. The smell of it hung thick in the air, laced with cigarette smoke, burnt crumpets and something else I couldn’t quite pin down - something sour.She pressed her face closer to my chest, nose twitching under my arm, her soft whiskers drooping. Her sm...
Weekly Contest #304
"Anywhere here will do," Lila urged, flicking her eyes between the street and her phone: on and off, on and off. 11:55. The car inched forward. The ignition clicked to the rhythm of the driver chewing gum."Can't stop here. It's for black cabs only," he muttered. "Busy, busy. Always busy." He laughed to himself.Lila tapped her foot. 11:56."Sir. I'm going to miss my train."She unfastened her seatbelt; it snapped back against the leather, slightly damp from her sweat. Without waiting for a reply, she pushed open the door.The car screeched to a ...
Weekly Contest #290
“Should be here somewhere,” she muttered, shuffling a damp cardboard box with brown tape out from under the couch. She cracked it open. “Wow,” she exhaled. “2006.” “Feels like so long ago.”“It was a long time ago, Mum,” I said. She hesitated, biting her lip, as if considering pushing the box away. “You don’t have to,” I offered, placing my hand on the box, about to nudge it back under the couch. “No,” she said, more firmly this time, pulling it toward her. The box squeaked across the parquet floor. “See? Ev...
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