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Weekly Contest #345
I open my laptop and a blank page glares back at me. I have been doing this for twenty-two days. I promised myself I would write every day for a month, because Jerry Seinfeld says I am supposed to write every single day. Jerry Seinfeld says my only job is to not break the chain. Jerry Seinfeld says I don’t have to write anything good.And believe me… I haven’t.I try some stream of consciousness because nothing will come to me that is creative or moving or beautiful. I am trying to write in very unbeautiful circumstances, today especially. The...
Weekly Contest #344
“First and foremost, we’re an experience company,” said our CEO as he meandered about the stage. “Meandered” was not the right word. Francis Echo did not meander. Francis Echo did not do anything without a distinct purpose. Now he stopped, and tapped his fingertips together, as if thinking about what he would say next. However, everyone in the audience - 3,000 employees of Echo Hotel & Resorts Worldwide - knew that nothing about this impromptu speech was impromptu at all. I knew best of all. I wrote the speech. “Memory is a funny thing,...
Weekly Contest #343
Cheerful Christmas Jazz on Spotify kept playing in the background, but the party came to an abrupt halt. He wondered for a moment why in movies the music always stopped when something shocking happened at a party. Then again, when did anything truly shocking ever happen at a party in real life? Record scratch moments weren’t reality. Sure, someone might get too drunk or make a pass at a coworker or overshare about a childhood trauma, but that was just normal suburban white people stuff. People did that all the time. People’s dead wives did n...
Weekly Contest #140
“I remember when it was just you and me,” I say, smirking a little as a five year old crawls from the arm of the couch onto Josh’s head. He’s trying to read. He smirks back, dog ears the page, and pulls a ball of arms and legs and energy down into his lap. “I remember when you used to nap!” he says, and lands a kiss on her chubby, giggling cheeks. “Remind me she needs a bath later,” I say, rising to tidy up the living room while our child is momentarily distracted by her daddy’s Sunday morning stubble. I remember the soft scratch...
Weekly Contest #69
She’s going to ask, I know she’s going to ask. This is my first time hosting Christmas dinner, but we’ve had this Christmas dinner for 32 years. And she had it with her mother for 30 years before that. I wonder now if Grammie ever asked my mother questions like this, and if my mom got mad, and if this is all just part of the great circle of life. I wish my grandmother was here. But she’s not, my mother is, and she is busy chattering away with my three-year-old. “Annnnnd what does a turkey say?” she says in her best grandmother...
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