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Weekly Contest #353
Lavanya pierced the black, swirling waters with her oar, dragging it through the foam, her torso searing with the pain of a thousand coals. Only she knows the path to the last seed, the elders prophesied, for without her, all of humanity shall perish.The ancient wisdom of this path was said to be passed divinely—mothers could not pass it to their daughters, nor fathers to their sons. Instead, three traveling hermits—the Vashwanah—visited each home that welcomed a new child, whispering in tongues to a swaddled newborn, waiting for some glimme...
Weekly Contest #352
There was naught a tree speckling the horizon. White, cracked salt flats spread before me, crumbling beneath the weight of the pale blue sky. Nary a wisp of rain cloud floated either, for the pale blue sky’s weight had vanquished them like a fog to the salt flats, whose greedy cracks licked up whatever water they carried, ignorant that they soaked the last drops of the earth. Other life had desiccated, or in some cases burned, in the extreme heat. Early on, the salt flats had been the mineral-rich bed of a lake, so mineral-rich that the san...
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