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Weekly Contest #352
If he stopped remembering, the world would forget Rome. Romulus was tired of carrying it. He stared at the colossal statue of Augustus, daring those below to look upon its gaze. The Goths found him wandering near the lake, parched and left to rot by bandits. He felt the statue's presence. Looming above, its head was lost in the golden sky. Guide me, Lord, for the demon looks at me every day. The jagged head of Augustus could not be seen from below. The eyes of Augustus had seen him in nightmares and every waking moment. They never left him. ...
Weekly Contest #351
El lugar de angustia, the place of anguish. Puddles of mud splurted as crickets chirped into the dense swamps of the jungle. Maggots feeding on old corpses of Spaniards whose bones had charred and soaked into the mask of the sunlight that poured its shine upon what had been flesh and bone. They had dared to enter the jungle to hunt down Aztec rebels. Eager and ready to hunt down villages to find the promised land of gold. Only to find their lives cut short by the heat and the gigantic crocodiles that lurked beneath the green swamps. Rafael s...
Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #350 ⭐️
The farmhouse had served as a battalion post for three days before it was abandoned; whoever left did so in haste. A half-eaten meal of sausages and cheese remained on the table. Grease-pencil markings sprawled across maps on the wall. Two bicycles stood by the door. Under the table, an officer's spare boots lurked. A cup of coffee sat half-drunk and cold. On the wooden desk, a wire ran out through a broken shutter into the night. A field telephone. Lieutenant Édouard Moreau had been there alone. Separated from his unit, his men deserted w...
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