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Weekly Contest #361
Weights clatter over by “Headband Lars” as I concentrate my breath, lowering into a second set of banded pistol squats. Thankfully, his forceful huffing remains under control today, and I’m out of range of his funky stench. The forty-something-year-old enjoys slinging more pounds than his own bodyweight—unimpressively. Maybe he’s fun at parties or drives a Bentley. As my glutes howl, pausing for a minute’s rest, “The Girl” approaches from outside. Hair untied and gym bag over her left shoulder, of course. Four days a week for eight weeks, an...
Weekly Contest #357
The blank walls widen the living room more than they used to, yet they close in more every day. Not as much as the “crate” from long, long ago. Jackson would lock me in and leave during sunlight, but he stays here all the time now. Though he only comes out a few times a day, my ears never stop wondering when he’ll appear. Must be the Border Collie instinct I can’t outgrow. Daily, I will sit beside the bedroom door. Can he hear me? He had never shut it before until seven years ago. That was before we left home for a “vacation.” Visiting the m...
Weekly Contest #354
A fool for thematic music, I press skip, skip, skip until the deep guitar of Vance Joy’s “Red Eye” crescendos into my study. I’ll settle for a smidgen of comfort. The past week of editing this manuscript of mine while home alone has dragged the surrounding walls closer, muted the colored pens’ ink, and drained the desk lamp’s brightness. My fingers cramp, though the pain only strikes when I close my strained eyes. Please get back, Sydney. 11:17 pm. I trust that she’s boarded, settled into a window seat near the back of a commercial airliner....
Weekly Contest #352
“Yo, yo. Can I get an audio check? Thumbs up in the chat if you can hear me and the gameplaaay.” FactorB is live. Again. His audience cannot get enough of the daily entertainment through his immersive Twitch streams. The kid had landed three sponsors in a matter of weeks amid the rapid growth in subscribers. Indeed, thirty-two straight online streaming days can do that. Luckylucy98: Sound is good Sunsetben: We good Zuber: Why is everyone watching this liar? OtterOtis: Hi FactorB! Eazybeazy: LETS GOOOO The chat rapidly spams up the side monit...
Weekly Contest #351
After my long overdue cleaning efforts, the cramped apartment shines—except for the rustic cherrywood drafting table in the living room corner. Lord knows how much dust and remaining heartache rests on its surface, hidden behind that dark curtain. Exactly a year’s worth of dust and heartache. To escape, I turn and pass through the doorway. Will she show? The 627 white door swings closed with a—thunk!—and I twist the brass key into the lock. Pa-ting! Could it be? I whip out my phone to check the text. Damn. Not Liv. 7:55 PM Antonio: Hey Nolan...
Weekly Contest #349
Today is April 31st. In the top bunk, Nadia lies on her stomach, trying to double check her math homework. The barrage of noises from underwater penetrate her headset’s white noise: the engine’s groans, the hull’s knocking, and Jenny’s music. To find solitude in the confines of PS-105, the studious teenager had no options. What a brat, Nadia repeats to herself. Just because Jenny had turned fifteen last month meant she got her headset upgraded; no more parental controls. And the older bunkmate eagerly flaunts her privilege, letting the wired...
Weekly Contest #348
C’mon. Stupid computer. I wiggle the mouse beside the photo printer. The spinning blue circle still hovers beside the white arrow. Ugh. Saturdays always get busy, of course. I don’t have time for delays. Mister Watson had reminded our team just this morning: “We promise five-star customer service here at Walgreens. That means the front register, the pharmacy, and the photo center. Looking at you, Landon.” Thanks a lot, boss. With a sigh, I slump onto the blue-cushioned stool, hiding behind the computer monitor. I lower my elbows onto the ...
Weekly Contest #347
I shiver beneath the unfamiliar floral-patterned bedcovers. How can I calm my anxious heart? Solitude is a simple antidote. Though once my heart absorbs this remedy, clearing the chaos, loneliness dwells. Now a fresh call for healing persists. A companion’s gentleness, in the way of talk, trust, touch—these relief forms are superlative. Maybe the most wholesome consolation for a heart like mine. Well, perhaps any heart. I had achieved loneliness, maintaining it for the past three weeks since the funeral. Divorce had been dreadful enough. T...
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