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Weekly Contest #103
I looked at the dashboard clock. It read 7 P.M. and I felt the tiredness of a long day. Stiff and painful when I moved my body, I was seriously considering quitting my job as a taxi driver. I was tired not only physically, but mentally as well. No excitement. Just demanding, dull rides. Except for the nice lady I pick up every Wednesday evening. Loves to talk. Talks about many things. A nice woman. If I could only remember what is her name? As I was cleaning out the back of the car, I found a black and white photograph of five men. They wer...
Weekly Contest #100
He watched Bruce as he broke and tore into the loaf of bread. The crumbs falling to the plate and into a red sauce which reminded him of blood. He dipped the bread into the sauce and ate it. Some of the sauce dripping off his face and hand onto a pure white napkin he had on his chest. Mark closed his eyes and turned away. “What’s wrong with you?” Bruce said. “Must you eat like a barbarian?” Mark said. “How should I eat, Martha Stewart?” “Is that what you did to her?” Bruce looked at Mark as he took another bite of the bread concoction. ...
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