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Weekly Contest #81
Marta was a pro’ at this - laying tables. She’d spent twelve years working in various restaurants since the age of fourteen, she was thirty-two now, and always paid impeccable attention to detail. She laid down the last knife and took a step back to scan a critical eye over her work. The cutlery was shining, the glassware sparkling, brand new candles sat in brand new holders, and everything was perfectly aligned. She had created a beautifully romantic setting and she allowed herself a smug smile, though it didn’t last long; a familiar sadnes...
Weekly Contest #79
Every day I think about them. Every single second that I’m not otherwise distracted, I see his smiling face, twisted with spite; eyes dead after selling his soul. I see her, loyal to him, casually ignoring her own dreams and her own son’s needs to appease her husband’s desperate sense of self. I can still feel the rage he exuded as he beat me and bore down on me with those hateful words, “You deserved it.” I can still feel my heart breaking over and over as I realised that this man, my father, would never care about me; would never celebrate...
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