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Weekly Contest #102
The cabin on Molkom Street had been vacant before I moved into the neighborhood. That was over fifteen years ago now -- a lifetime, it seems, as my days before are quite hazy. I thought it had been condemned; for years, shingles peeled off the sagging roof and the white siding appreciably faded, but it had potential, I guess. It had a rather large yard -- for a home in these parts, at least. Years ago, Murph’s lead broke after lunging at a grouse, and they scampered under the evergreens and spruces leading behind the cabin. By the time I mad...
Weekly Contest #101
Jeff’s forehead, or third eye, as the yoga instructor would call it, kissed the floor, feeling the steady vibrations from the unit below, partying. Again. Still. Into the morning. Breathe in for four, three, two, one. Bass thumped his forehead. Hold for four, three, two, one. The rhythm of the beat sped up his breath count, throwing it off. Breathe out for four, three, three, three, two, one. He escaped from child’s pose. Namaste. “I’ve got to get out of here,” He said, “how about breakfast at the park?” “Sounds great,” Lisa said.&nb...
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