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Weekly Contest #339
1987. A Kauaʻi ʻōʻō bird lets out a haunting call from atop a branch. This story is based off the video of the final call of the Kauaʻi ʻōʻō male. Where are you, my love? Where are you?I feel the answer deep inside. I am alone.Where are you, my love? Where are you?I keep calling out. There is no point in stopping. Perhaps a miracle might occur.There is a man with a camera below. I don't know what he's doing, but I don't care. He speaks loudly. I cry louder.His name is David Boynton. We're in the Alakaʻi Wilderness Preserve of Kauaʻi, Hawaii....
Weekly Contest #338
"That section's off-limits," says a snide voice. "Don't touch that."Mrs. Sue's tone is distinctive; it drips with disappointment and tuna-smelling breath. The beaded glasses that sit atop her hooked nose gleam in the lamplight. She hates me - it's clear from her constant scowl every time I walk into her trinket shop."What is it? How does it work?" I ask, not moving my hand from the antique. It was mesmerizing. It sat on one of the many dark wooden shelves, but it caught my eye with its old, clanking movement and jolly nature."What one're you...
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