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Weekly Contest #340
There’s nothing special about me – I’m just a man who wanted a life of milk and honey. But sometimes, this chicken-shit life can rob a man of his dignity. Sometimes, circumstance reduces him to nothing more than a boy. Like he's a fish out of water, flopping around. It makes you red with fury. A block of ice-cold resentment settling in your stomach. Red, blue. Red, blue. And you catch yourself asking, “Is this my life? I don’t recognize what’s going on here. Is this really all there is?” Can’t be. My story ain’t supposed to end up this way. ...
Weekly Contest #284
“We have movement!” The watchman’s cry split the early morning air like a jagged blade. His voice, raw with urgency, carried over the camp as he slammed the warning bell, its metallic clang slicing through the uneasy quiet. Panic rippled outward, a shiver of terror that shook even the steadiest hearts. The moment they had dreaded was upon them. The end had begun. It had been years—perhaps decades—since the Oracle’s death. The memory of her final, gasping prophecy lingered like a curse over the twenty-seven men stranded in this strange and ho...
Weekly Contest #254
The events of the night were coming back to him slowly—a kaleidoscope of fragmented memories and blurry visions furiously shifting, rearranging, and merging to form a rough timeline. Had he broken free in time? Why couldn’t he feel his legs? The memories were fuzzy and distant, yet in a very surreal way, they were visceral and blinding.Ah, yes—that’s right. He was out searching for something. Was he hunting? No, he was searching for it.And he encountered it.It was rumored to appear at the heart of the ancient, whispering forest during t...
Weekly Contest #237
Venus is, indeed, a woman—I've seen her in the flesh. I’ve known her, or rather, she’s known me.Everything about her was sublime, from the pearly toes on her feet that glistened in the moonlight to the wavy locks on her head cascading down to her rear. She was a sight to behold, and even in her anger, her beauty was captivating. When upset, I usually took on the likeness of an ogre, or perhaps a mule, but she was not made from the same stuff as me. Her rosy cheeks burned a hot crimson when her dewy lips parted to spit venom from her tongue. ...
Weekly Contest #235
Never had I heard such a sound so dramatic and ancient, as if it were calling from the onset of all creation. A sound that shrieked throughout the open air and rumbled through the dense earth. It cracked open the sky in a glorious display and brought forth the dead from their graves in an awful exhumation. No, never before had I heard anything quite like the horn I heard on Judgement Day.Its tune struck me in the gut and shook my spirit. Instantly, I knew. The last grain of sand of the holy hourglass had fallen, and the final leaf of life’s ...
Weekly Contest #231
None of us were prepared for the day It abruptly stopped loading. We watched with bated breath as 89% glitched on our screens. Some of us responded with humor, while others responded with a unique blend of pessimism and apathy. All of us, however, felt a sharp fear from having to recognize the very real possibility that we might have to continue living without It. We had gotten too comfortable relying on its advanced technology and superior intellect. At first, our world leaders were skeptical of its counsel, skillfully a...
Weekly Contest #230
The first traces of his message came in early spring. I was tending to my garden, tilling the soil. The winter had scarcely gone, but I was eager to get ahead on my work; the sooner the seeds of my herbs were nestled into the ground, the sooner I could restock my apothecary. Then, I heard it.It started as a faint murmur in the wind. I had ignored it as best I could, busying myself with casting growth spells, weaving tapestries of sunlight, completing prayer rituals, and even sacrificing the first lamb of the season. Still, the murmur li...
Weekly Contest #229
Whenever there’s a discussion regarding the nature of heteronormativity and its prevalence in society, both in a historical and modern context, the tone surrounding the topic can be quite removed; perhaps reductive is the better word. Oftentimes, we take social structures like this and subvert them to the specific individual actions that keep the power dynamics between groups of people imbalanced, rather than tailor our analysis to focus on the systems put in place to keep the structures intact. Ergo, a critique of white supremacy is re...
Weekly Contest #228
The annual Hawthorne Springs Boysenberry Pie Contest is, without a shadow of a doubt, the most anticipated event of the entire year. Tens of people, including myself and my loyal husband Bob, commute from our neighboring suburban enclaves to The Covenant Church of Hope for a shot at pastry greatness and local fame, each of us toting exactly three distinctive takes on the boysenberry pie; classic, crumble, and chef’s special. We offer our submissions to be tasted by the contest’s judges, all esteemed members of the church. The contest is...
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