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Weekly Contest #349
Brian Jenkins is what you might describe as “garden proud”. Every weekend, weather permitting, he can be found outside waging war on nature, beating it into manicured, controlled submission. His garden is a thing of regulated beauty; edges cut to crisp perfection where the lawn borders deep rich beds of carefully curated flowers and ornamental plants, grass kept scrupulously short, although not too short, hedges and bushes subjected to a ruthless routine of pruning and shaping - stopping short of topiary, which he considers to be vulgar - so...
Weekly Contest #75
*trigger warning* child abuse and violence against LGBTQ+ In a place of beauty and darkness, there sits a throne which is made up of all the time that ever was. Seated upon it is the Old Year and every soul who leaves their life must pass through these midnight halls on their way to the next. The Old Year does not judge, it is now and forever and exists simply to ease the passing and hear the tales of what went before from those that wish to tell them. A young woman approaches the throne, painfully thin with hair shorn short to her head, the...
Weekly Contest #69
START MEETING - MATT IS IN THE WAITING ROOM - CONNECTING TO AUDIO - Gayyyyyy Hello buttnugget How’s it going? Not bad, you? Is your brother joining us? My brother? Is he not yours too? Nah. Not today. Is he coming? Yeah he should be here soon. He’s bringing the dog and the girlfriend so he’s probably going to be late. Is the other lesbian coming? Yeah she’s here. Putting boots on. I’m not convinced this is going to work, mum’s bad enough with technology when she’s sitting at a table using it. She’s going to have a meltdown when she loses 4G ...
Weekly Contest #67
Lia da Silva, dread pirate and captain of the ship Calypso’s Revenge, was in a bad mood. She was the scourge of the Seven Seas, feared by all on the grounds of being a merciless cutthroat, as clever as she was brave, and mistress of evading capture even in the tightest spots, and yet she simply could not shake the feeling that the whole world was laughing at her and her utter failure to complete her most recent quest. She toyed absently with one of the daggers that pinned a scroll to her captain's table and could almost hear her governess' d...
Weekly Contest #51
There was once a young girl who loved the stars and wanted nothing more than to be able to reach up to the sky and catch one for herself. Every night when the sun went down and the sky was clear, she would stand at her bedroom window and stretch her hand out as far as she could reach, but no matter how far she stretched, or how close the stars seemed to be at the ends of her fingertips, she could never quite touch them. Maybe, she thought, if I was just a little taller, I’d be able to catch one. And so she went to her little desk and t...
Weekly Contest #50
The mornings of competitions, I always wake with a jolt as if I’ve been dropped back into my body from a great height. Shockwaves radiate through me from my pounding heart, deadening and prickling my extremities with a kind of pins and needles numbness. It doesn’t seem to matter how many events I take part in or how well prepared I feel the night before, every time it’s the same. Through breakfast, my legs bounce uncontrollably under the table. As my coach gives me her last minute chat I have to force my mind back into the present, to focus ...
Weekly Contest #49
When one is awaiting the answer to a question - or indeed, even when one has been posed a question and must respond - it is natural that one’s mind might wander whilst giving consideration to the reply. Take, if you will, the question of “good”. When asked if one is “good”, there are many angles to consider. What is “good”? How does one know if one is “good”? Can “good” exist if “bad” does not, or is it simply the positive that exists only to provide balance to the scales of life? I must confess that it is a question that I ponder frequent...
Weekly Contest #23
Howard drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, a rhythmic patter that didn’t quite fit with the music on the radio. He sighed and straightened his arms, locking his elbows out in an attempt to ease the tension in his neck and shoulders, although nothing ever really dispelled the aches and pains anymore, and the cold was settling into his joints as though they themselves were turning slowly to ice. The windscreen wipers swept begrudgingly across in front of him, affording him a brief view of the back end of the same car he’d been sat ...
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