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Weekly Contest #70
Murray stared at the piece of sheet music like a confused puppy. It was an absolute mess - a series of symbols populating the sets of horizontal lines that looked more like a child’s scribbles than a melody. Of course, to the trained eye, every symbol had a valid meaning, but it was far more dense than any piece Murray had ever seen, and appeared to have been written in a frenzy, completely lacking the composer’s usual elegance. The piece appeared to be atonal - the key signature contained no sharps or flats, which meant that nearly every ba...
Weekly Contest #63
You’re not supposed to be here, Mandy thought to herself as her Jeep crept slowly into a parking stall in front of her favorite coffee shop. She had expected the brick facade to fill her with comfort, like a reunion with an old friend, but what she felt was more akin to deja vu. A passing familiarity, the sense that she’d been there before in a dream. In the past, it had been a weekly destination for her. Every Sunday, on Cheat Day, she bought a large latte with whipped cream on top and curled up on the couch with a good book for at least an...
Weekly Contest #58
January 11th First time I’ve had the elevator dream since Doc told me to start this journal. Fourth time I’ve had it total, I think, maybe fifth. It’s always the same.In the dream, I’m just getting off work, except it’s later than usual and I’m the only one left in the office. I fill out my timesheet, set my desktop to sleep mode, and head toward the elevator. I’m the only one on it, and instead of starting from the 33rd floor, I’m on the 400th floor. I press the button for the lobby and the elevator begins its slow descent. It beeps as...
Weekly Contest #55
Can you keep a secret?What If I told you that your life depends on it?Mine did, and if you're reading this, that means that I wasn't very good at keeping my secret. But you can do better. You must.You don't need any convincing, do you? Surely by now you've worked out for yourself that you'll never leave this place alive. Surely the existence of this message is proof that the men you're working for have lied to you. And the fact that they didn't tell you someone held this post before you is proof that I am dead.I'm sure the job seemed appeali...
Weekly Contest #54
On the day before his daughter was set to leave for art school, Joseph Kaufman sat in his study, staring intently at his old steel-string acoustic guitar. The one he’d had for eighteen years, and had tried to play exactly twice. The first time was the day little Alice Kaufman was born. The late-stage delivery had been a particularly long one, commencing at around 11PM the previous night, and not finishing until 2:53 in the morning. He felt like a zombie by the time it was over, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine how Tracey felt, but tim...
Weekly Contest #53
It was day seven in a row of over a hundred degree weather here in sunny Nebraska. Why did the midwest have to get the ass-end of every single season? Last Winter we got enough snow to make Omaha look like the Yukon Territory. They say Spring is nice, but I wouldn’t know because the second I step outside my sinuses swell up to the size of baseballs. And don’t even get me started on Fall. We get approximately ten days of the most beautiful overcast weather you’ve ever seen, then the temperature drops like a cartoon anvil. And as for summer......
Shortlisted for Contest #52 ⭐️
It came on all at once, while Nolan was driving down a dark New Jersey highway toward the woods. A feeling that wasn’t quite guilt, but adjacent to guilt. Doctors might refer to it as shock. Or maybe shock was the numbness that came before the feeling. And if that was true, maybe this feeling was the connective tissue between shock and guilt. At first, it was just a job. Go to the place, do the thing, don’t ask questions. And Nolan always did his job well. He never stopped to think about what he was doing, he just moved on to the next t...
Weekly Contest #42
“Where the hell is Julian?!” Mickey had reached the end of his patience. “If he’s not here in five minutes I quit. I’m serious.” “He’ll be here, man, he just texted me that he’s on his way!” Caleb said. “He’s over an hour late already! this is bullshit.” Mickey brought his drum stick down on a crash cymbal with a force that would have sent it spinning to the floor were it not secured tightly. Instead, the stand wobbled violently for a moment before settling back to center. “Honestly I’m with Mickey on this one.” Hunter was sit...
Weekly Contest #30
Darkness. Vibration. My consciousness filters in like grains of sand in an hourglass. I am floating (drifting) out to sea (off to sleep), a disembodied spirit travelling through cosmic space, and then all at once, I am whole. I cannot see (I can’t open my eyes) and I can barely breathe. The air is hot, thick, cruelly insufficient. I detect a mild sensation on my face. Pressure. My head is covered by a bag (I’m asleep on my stomach oh god I’m going to suffocate). Panic sets in, and I begin inhaling sharply, attempting to glean ...
Weekly Contest #29
This is crazy Ethan thought as he checked the time on his phone: 12:04 AM. Ben was running late. He slid the device back into his left jeans pocket and glanced up the dark street, first looking left, then right, while exhaling erratic puffs of nervous, steamy breath. No sign of him yet. With his right hand, he fidgeted with the folding knife that was uncomfortably jammed into his other pocket. He turned around and glanced at his quaint single story house. All dark. Part of him wished the light would come on, that his mother would step outsid...
Weekly Contest #9
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before.” James had never been good at thinking on his feet, and he was completely unprepared for the question. He had been focusing most of his attention on trying not to stare at Brie’s ass as she attempted to balance on the wooden barrier lining the sidewalk, while simultaneously asking himself questions like is this a date? Should I grab her hand? When do I make the move? It occurred to him that her soliciting such personal information from him might just be the sign he needed, but when th...
Weekly Contest #8
Ship’s Captain’s Journal, September the 25th, 1717: It’s been seven days since the tempest left us dead in the water. Sails are torn, oars broken. Me men took to lashin’ blankets and towels to the mast but nothing will catch wind. Had we some weavers on board, we might be able to stitch the sails up. Alas, we’re but a band of rotten pillagers and scallywags, not craftsmen! Even my first mate, Lena, claims to have never picked up a needle in her life. The men thought it was bad luck when she first came on board, but she’s proven to be a...
Weekly Contest #7
Yolric rested his chin on his hand and heaved a bored sigh. The elf’s shop had been empty all morning save for his dwarven assistant, Patsy, who was painstakingly cleaning the floors. On one side of the shop were shelves lined with spellbooks, on the other an assortment of jars which glowed various colors. The middle of the shop contained tables filled with vials of multiple shapes and sizes. Many had signs in front of them that read things like “Powerful Love Potion, Use Sparingly” and “Very Deadly! Ask for Assistance.” Under the counter on...
Weekly Contest #6
“Alright Max, c’mon, what’s the big surprise? Why are we going to your uncle’s?” Frank asked restlessly. Frank and Max sat in the passenger seats in the cabin of Frank’s 2215 autovan, facing away from the cockpit. Their friend Steve occupied the bench-style seat across from them, while the van cruised up the highway in the Nevada desert on autopilot. For three hours Frank had been trying to distract himself from the secret Max was so keen on keeping about the reason for their road trip, but he couldn’t stand it anymore. Anticipation was gett...
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