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Submitted to Contest #335
In the town of Mobile, Alabama, some years before anyone thought to call the war between the States Civil, there lived a man named Ephraim Cobb. He firmly believed, often publicly with a confidence that could crack a teacup, that he understood how things worked. Ephraim was a clerk by profession, which in Mobile at this time meant he could read well enough to be trusted with ledgers and add well enough to be distrusted with other people’s money. He wore his hair parted as though it were a treaty line. He kept his coat buttoned with the zea...
Submitted to Contest #330
She was the Homecoming Queen. She had been voted Most Feminine in our Senior Class's Who’s Who. She was those things and so much more. President of this club and that club Everyone was her friend and she was a friend to everyone. She had bronze skin that seemed sun kissed even in the depths of winter, inherited from her Mother and the Spaniards who settled southern Alabama centuries ago. She had the Raven black hair of the Moorish conquerors of Spain a thousand years past. Hair that perfectly framed her face and lightly brushed her shoulders...
Submitted to Contest #328
I remember everything. That’s my cross to bear. A preordained punishment for my sins. Whether they are sins of my past or future I do not know. For me it is just pain caused by an eidetic memory. It’s true, I remember it all. I can flip through the pages of a book I read at the age of eight. You can ask me what the fifth word of the second paragraph of page sixty-seven might be and I can turn there in my memory, snap a photograph and count. ‘Winter’ or ‘death’ or ‘pain’, I might tell you. Though you’d have no way to check my honesty. Unless...
Submitted to Contest #325
The breeze gently brushes his skin, kissing the hair on his arms. Time to push on, it says. Noah stands on the precipice admiring the cross swell of blue ridges. If there is a more beautiful sight he has never seen it. He is at the highest point of a cross sea of mountains stretching out to the horizon. The wind ripples through the trees in the distance. Over crests and valleys and up the slope to where he stands before continuing its voyage off into eternity. Push on, it says. It is time to push on. It is never wise to linger very long in a...
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