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Weekly Contest #65
The rust-chewed chainlink fence glowed neon in the moonlight. There were no streetlights on Hearthstone Drive. At least, not on this block. There was no reason for trick-or-treaters to come this way, where there were no houses. The sight of the LED lamps was starting to fade in Russell’s memory. As he stared along the fence, the chainlinks on the top looked more like barbed-wire than anything, an endless set of teeth. This was a prison they could never—should never—break into. Ahead, Gary looked back. “C’mon, dude. Just up here.” I should ...
Weekly Contest #62
“Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there.” The man behind the desk closed the folder in front of him.The girl hesitated, her hand still on the doorknob. “I . . .”“How’d you get past my secretary?”She froze.The man let out a laugh that would sound at home in America’s Wild West; here in the city it clanged of incivility.“Just jokin. Don’t have one. No room for one nohow.”The girl stayed where she was, by the entrance of the office. Morning sunlight edged in through the partially closed blinds, printing a frantic pattern on her face. The man knew th...
Weekly Contest #55
One Friday night, the oak door of The Whistling Dog flew open. The night was clear and tranquil, so every soul in the bar knew it was no breeze that did it. It was a man: Mitch Larson, tall, bearded, with a thick overcoat and a tattooed face; the jukebox had finished playing ten minutes ago, and he stared into the silence. Moving forward, casting a cursory glance toward the stairway on his right, he walked to a barstool far from the other drinkers. The bartender, Jesse Wilkes, sixty if he was a day, approached, his round spectacles shining ...
Weekly Contest #54
Juvie wasn’t hell. It was bearable. Barely. Everyone—her momma and her sister and kids from school who’d never given a damn about her before—had approached her with shining eyes and earnest voices, telling her to be careful, keep her head down, don’t get on anyone’s bad side. Like it was a state penitentiary or somethin and not Poskins County Junior Jail. Junior Jail wasn’t the real name. Duh. But juvenile was a juvenile word and detention sounded too much like school. Like they were in time-out. It was time out, all right. Time out from ...
Weekly Contest #41
Nantahala, at over 530,000 acres, was the largest National Forest in North Carolina. Every year, thousands of nature-enthusiasts visited to touch what the Cherokees called “Land of the Noon-Day Sun.” Four main trails wound through the wilderness of old-growth forest, mountains, rivers, and wildlife; smaller paths extended, tangling through the land, but the trails could only go so far.At least once a year, Elena Worthing, with her father Harvey and her little brother Nathan, made the hour-and-a-half-plus drive from their home in Asheville. T...
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