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Weekly Contest #272
I never thought I could be nostalgic for immigration at Julius Nyerere Airport. Those endless, untidy snakes of exhausted humanity. The scratched glass booths and the scufffed officers who walked in and out of them. Their faces unreadable, their movements unknowable, the queues they abruptly left behind abandoned to confusion. I had stood there for almost an hour, face to face with an empty desk, my dusky pink suitcase merrily spinning around the distant carousel, taunting me with imaginings of freedom. Of course, the roads of Dar es S...
Weekly Contest #269
The roads were quiet, and the Alabama sun still young in the sky, when my friend Dylan turned down the radio and released the full cry of the Cougar. I didn’t know cars, didn’t care to, but normally the sound of that engine climbing the ridges of my spine would make me at least a little hungry for Dylan’s next gear change. But today was not a normal day. And even though the Cougar’s black hood gleamed with the promise of a fresh dawn, there was nothing that could have lifted my spirits to meet it. Tomorrow would be the day I buried my dad. I...
Weekly Contest #212
Thursday 1st September 2022 Dear James, I just wanted to drop you a line at your new address – I wouldn’t be much of a grandmother if I didn’t mark the occasion of you finally moving out! I think it is so good that you have struck out on your own at last. I know this job isn’t what you really want to be doing, but I am sure good things will come your way if you can buck your trend and knuckle down to some hard graft. I think this is a better foot in the door than your “degree” in any case! I was surprised I had to address this t...
Weekly Contest #205
Have you ever thought about the windows on a train. How essential they are. Think about it; travel by railway would have no association with romance if someone went and sealed them all up. No world to watch go by. Just a sealed carrier binding its inhabitants with mission rather than adventure; a landing craft to burst open at the station and unleash dull, grey hell on unsuspecting cities. Yet tonight I would have given anything to board them over as though the guard had announced the next stop would be the zombie apocalypse. I was making ...
Weekly Contest #203
- You see, for us it’s not so much about whether Sammy needs to die… it’s about how loud the gunshot needs to be. Walsh punctuated his sentence with an impressively long draw from his last half inch of cigarette. Like everything Walsh did, he did it a little too loudly for Thomas’s liking. Still, there was little danger of being overheard. As Walsh had assured him, the park formed a perfect cloak of July exuberance. Playing children, the rhythmic steps of a jogging group, tinny music ringing out of phone speakers – stitches enough to su...
Weekly Contest #201
The morning sun of September's fourth day came bright through the classroom window. Its light held a promise, but I knew it would only deliver the ghost of summer warmth. I stood at the front of my empty classroom, inspecting the product of my summer toils. I had complete confidence in my seating plan; the desk layout carefully planned to avoid bottlenecks; the children I knew to be disruptive artfully insulated from one another. Each desk tidy held precisely the correct number of supplies: just enough to prevent wandering trips to neighb...
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