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Weekly Contest #246
Nola doesn’t meet Venice until midnight. These days people don’t start moving around until six or seven in the evening. Sometimes it’s later, depending on how high the temperature soars in the early part of the day and how slow the mercury creeps down in the back half. Today is a bad day, in the sense that the temp hits well over one hundred and takes until ten to come down to eighty-seven. By the time Nola starts out, it’s a balmy eighty-four degrees, and she’s sweating when she reaches the old park. She heaves a sigh of relief at the...
Weekly Contest #92
TW: gun violence They were headed home when the street lamps cut out. Daniel’s hands stilled. He squeezed the baseball he’d been tossing between them, his head thrown back, eyes on the light above him. It didn’t flicker or anything; just stayed dark and silent. There was a soft flutter as a swarm of moths departed, their source of fascination vanquished. Lowering his gaze, he squinted in the dark. “Ham?” he called. A curse flew out of the nearby bushes, and Daniel stepped back as his cousin shoved his way free of the snares. His ...
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