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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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