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Weekly Contest #292
The sky over the Alps is the same color as it was the day Killian left. A hard, brilliant blue, stretched taut over the world, so sharp it almost cuts to look at. I remember thinking it should have been overcast, maybe stormy—something to mark the moment. But the universe is indifferent, and it had been the kind of clear, crisp day where the mountains felt close enough to touch. Now, months later, it is the same. The sun is brittle. The wind slides down from the peaks, brushing against the glass walls of the observatory, rattling the equipme...
Weekly Contest #273
Trigger Warning: This story contains sensitive themes related to terminal illness, assisted suicide, euthanasia, and death, which may be distressing for some readers.February 14, 2015CHUV – Lausanne, SwitzerlandI’ve never liked February. The world feels trapped under ice, waiting for spring to thaw it out. The snow outside my office window seemed heavier today, or maybe it’s just me. The hospital hums as it always does, but there’s a weight to the air I can’t shake.I met Alain Bieri. Forty-eight, a professor at the University of Lausanne. AL...
Weekly Contest #271
Snow fell in thick, oppressive layers over the Swiss Alps, smothering the world in a silence so deep it felt as if the mountains themselves had drawn in a long, cold breath, and would never let it out. From my office at EPFL, I pressed my hand against the icy windowpane, the cold creeping through my skin. My breath fogged the glass, narrowing my view until all I could see was a vast whiteness. The world was vanishing beneath the storm, roads erased under waves of snow, twisting away, hidden beneath nature’s relentless, indifferent weight. Bu...
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