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Weekly Contest #374
My sister's question blows a crater, a molten, unsealable hole, deep in my core. It reminds me of Channel 5 News, back when Guy Hagi would warn us. “It's coming, get out while you can,” he'd say, and we ignored him because it never rains when he says it will. But one night lava flowed from the mountain, sizzled into the sea, and turned downtown into black goop. That's how her question feels. Lani palms the butt of a ketchup bottle. As it slops onto her spam and rice, she asks again. “What's her name?” The bottle spits out the last bits, spla...
Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #316 ⭐️
I’m a last-pickin’s, catfaced tomato kind of girl. Not pretty, barely fit for the skillet. Still, I agreed to meet him. My stomach growls as I stare through the glass. Past the garden, plum hills and bruised, mulberry skies are sweet enough to ease my nerves—but don’t. A gecko scurries over the cracked sill paint, claws ticking like the wall clock. Thirty minutes till supper in town. I’ll finally see him. And he’ll see me, bare, no filters. Was just last week she first said his name. “He’s lookin’ for a wife,” Granny said, after she got back...
Winner of Weekly Contest #313 🏆
Content warning: This story includes themes of grief and the death of a child. “Are you there, God? It’s me. Help me break her heart today. And can you bring back the sun?” But the clouds burst. I breathe in earth and taste mineral tang, wet wind whipping my face. I should’ve known not to come—should’ve stopped when the steeple down the road knifed dark clouds. But she begged, and I couldn't refuse. Not today. I fumble with an umbrella before the wind yanks it, tossing it against the monkey bars. I leap from the bench. Bigger kids shriek an...
Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #304 ⭐️
Content warning: Contains themes of pregnancy loss and grief Sunbeams turned floating flour into glitter—too pretty for the mess I’d made. My fingers twisted through sticky dough, a ball of goop on the counter. Outside, mina birds chirped. The sea sighed against the sand across the street, breeze heavy with salt and sweet plumeria. I breathed it in like it might help. But the birds didn’t care. The sea didn’t care. They carried on, like the world hadn’t burned down. Mine had. BEEP. The pre-heated oven broke my thoughts. And so did a smack o...
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