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Weekly Contest #361
“And so, children, that is the story of how our sun was extinguished forty-eight years ago. Any questions?” The old man peered at his classroom. A diminutive boy raised his hand. “Why did it happen?” “My boy, no one’s entirely sure about that. Maybe something got to the sun. Who knows? But luckily, we are home to some truly phenomenal scientists. We survived without the sun. Obviously. No one can say how long we can continue like this but by then, I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” The old man watched as the pupils filed out o...
Weekly Contest #359
1st August 2013I’ve been told to take up journaling. So here I am, staring at this stupid notebook. Helps me process my thoughts or whatever. Anyway, to get to the gist of it, we look perfectly ordinary on the outside. My family and I, I mean. But… inside there are so many cracks, I feel like we’re one touch away from collapsing into ourselves. Everything’s such a hodgepodge. Part of me thinks I’ll just figure it out as I go through life. The other side of me thinks continuing like this will only make even more people think I’m weird. Ugh. T...
Weekly Contest #358
I drift up the mahogany stairs, the colour of freshly brewed tea. I slide along the pristine floors until I come upon a room. Her room. Our room. Once. She sits there, typing away confidently on her laptop. I listen to the pleasant, evocative sound of the keys for a minute, and head into the room. I look around. Same old routine. Each day I hope is the last. Each day I bid goodbye to her, to this room, to our memories here, only to wake up again in the same place. She knows. She ignores. As usual, I orchestrate our daily routine. “Arya”...
“‘Nobody believed in me. That was their first mistake.’ That’s the kind of sob story you want isn’t it? Pfffft.” Hic, followed by a juicy burp. “Actually, the mistake everyone made was believing in me. I’m a loser!” Bridge-Troll drew a big fat zero in the air with a corpulent, green finger. “People trusted me to do this! And I failed! What an idiot, amiright!” Hic. Bridge-Troll got off his much-too-tall bar stool and wobbly walked closer to the disinterested bartender. He snapped his fingers clumsily at her. “You think I’m a fool don’t you! ...
Weekly Contest #357
Click. “Chin up,” commanded the photographer. Rani confidently raised her slender, recently-threaded chin. Click. “Okay, now do this,” ordered the photographer. He set his camera aside and contorted himself into a probably-elegant pose that did not seem so elegant on him. Rani raised an obsidian brow but obeyed whilst the photographer rushed over to adjust the rise of her shoulders, modify the tilt of her chin, and raised a finger to guide her eyes. After all, she did not have the same authority she once had. Old Rani could cho...
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