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Submitted to Contest #308
The park is the picture of early October: lively warmly wrapped folk amongst rustling frozen fire. The weather is almost the same as yesterday; the air is light instead of calm. There are occupied picnic benches near pairs of swaying swings. The main carousel ride was repurposed long ago into a gazebo with the horses mounted on springs as playground equipment. The gazebo is decorated with warm string lights and the floor is taken up by a pianist, a guitarist, and a fiddler. The lot are wearing Stetsons and playing a two-beat rhythm with a cr...
Submitted to Contest #309
Warning: Violent intrusive thoughts, brief discussion of softcore pornography By the time I finish making the food, I’ll definitely be warm enough and A1 to drive. I hum as I pull out the fresh ingredients from my fridge and cupboards. I set a timer for fifty minutes for the salmon with one hand, leave a bagel in the toaster, and grab a chef’s knife with the other. My hands return to slice a carrot and celery stalk, as well as chop a small onion. For some reason, chopping onions and shredding chilli don’t tend to get me unless I touch my eye...
Submitted to Contest #270
I hum as I pull out the fresh ingredients from my fridge and cupboards. The salmon bakes in the oven while a small pot of olive oil sits on the stove on medium heat. I set a timer for 50 minutes for the salmon with one hand, leave a bagel in the toaster, and grab a chef’s knife with the other. My hands return to slice a carrot and celery stalk, as well as chop a small onion. For some reason, chopping onions and shredding chillis don’t tend to get me unless I touch my eyes. Never been much of a crier, I guess. Working fast helps but the slic...
Submitted to Contest #252
It starts to rain properly. Eventually, I get back to the house. Every inch of me feels dead. I’m not even angry at everything that’s happened. I’m just tired and sad. I put my Yamaha YZF-R6 back in the smithy with my helmet, lock the doors, and get inside. I almost don’t bother to take off my shoes or hang up my jacket. I switch the lights on and stumble into the kitchen over to the fully stocked bar. I call myself a glophead. Greyson says I’m a “functional alcoholic”, meaning I can “maintain daily obligations and routines” but still “misus...
Submitted to Contest #246
“Alright, that’s everything, time for the game to begin! HaHA!”I try to study my cards. My hands are trembling, like always. And then, I notice everything has stopped and everyone else is watching me. I awkwardly glance between everyone until I notice the clock’s minute hand is pointed at me. The clock also deems me as a spade as the card did. “…Oh, yeah. I go first since I’m…the guest, or something. Uh…” What’s my objective again? Make a- Make a full red trail? I need to play an Ace or ten, don’t I? That’s what he said, wasn’t it? Fuck. Qui...
Submitted to Contest #243
Movement passes by in flashes. Pain throbs in my veins, ridiculing my body. Something soft is thrown over me. I fade in and out of consciousness, getting glimpses of the landscape. Crumbling ziggurats are partially collapsed with bricks spilling down the sides. Ancient cuneiform tablets are strewn about, their wisdom lost. The streets of Baghdad are lined with buildings damaged by earthquakes and tsunamis amongst collapsed souks and mosques. Abandoned tanks and military vehicles rust in the desert. Tattered fatigues caught on jagged metal ed...
Submitted to Contest #240
Orders are shouted forth from the helm and echo across the deck. The ship’s anchor is dragged up, the ropes are cast off, and the boat’s large sails fall and quickly fill with soft winds. Soon enough, the open waters engulf us and the coast of steady land is left behind. We sail for hours, setting off flares to light up the night. Sometimes, I hear the shouts of gulls and albatrosses, but the seas that surround us are empty. It’s just an endless void of water, but there’s always a nagging feeling that there’s something lurking just out of si...
Submitted to Contest #238
“What’s troubling you?”“I…I had a panic attack earlier today. Because…of something really fucking stupid…” I bitterly laugh. “Of course, it’s fucking stupid. It’s me.”“What was it, if you don’t mind me asking?”“No. You should ask. It’s the only way I’ll force myself to spit it out. It…” I inhale deeply through my nose. “Lipstick. Someone was wearing dark red lipstick, and it reminded me of…my-” I have to force myself to finish the sentence. “…my mother…”I pause for a moment that seems to stretch forever. The pressure of further elaboration w...
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