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Weekly Contest #308
CW: Contains violence and references to child abuse My mother used to tell me… “Nicolae, soarele este totul.”It means the sun is everything.She would say it when I complained about the summer heat while we worked the fields. Back then, I thought she was just being hyperbolic. But as I grew older, I came to understand how true it really was.Life clings to its warmth like a newborn to its mother’s chest. It paints the leaves green and whispers to seeds beneath the soil, commanding them to grow. Even the wind dances from the sun’s effects.But n...
Weekly Contest #307
Manshita lost her pinky last week, but it didn’t weigh on her. No, she didn’t care about her fragmented hand; her bandaged hand; her now three-fingered hand. Nor did she mind her slowly approaching exam slot. What loomed over her was a persistent tension — not from her injury or exam, but the slow erosion of her friendships.Over the past two months she felt her friends drifting away. One might assume it was a natural process; after all, graduation neared. They were entering the secular workforce, and she was claiming a spot as a fellow in he...
Weekly Contest #276
Method of LociSilvestriMy palace has been gloomy as of late,It was left in a dark and dreary state.Stepping through my ego’s athenaeum,Art decorates the walls like a museum.Depictions of my conquests and follies,Including a few tragic volleys.There is one hall of particular note,To a single impetus I devote.The fire of my mind shines only here,A singular focus, I find queer.Paintings, mosaics, statues dedicated,A show too grand for what's delegated. Beneath dim light, these walls breathe and they sigh,A mausoleum for dreams gone awry.Each re...
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