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Weekly Contest #356
Destination to Somewhereby Spartacus Lawrence— — — It’s Friday evening, and there’s a holiday on Monday. I’m in my car in bumper to bumper traffic — my old blue Buick, nearing 100,000 miles. She runs good most days, but today the muffler is sounding weak, a puff of smoke bloats from the rear. When I think of vacation, a picture of a sunny beach and clear skies comes to mind, but that’s not what I have today. Rain is pounding the windshield with vigor, visibility is low. I’ve grown to know that this drive, the one to the airport, is often fil...
Weekly Contest #355
What the Dog Knowsby Spartacus Lawrence---The familiar buzz of my cell phone indicates that a message has come through. I’m sitting in a conference. The presenter is discussing the different generations and what each brings to the current workforce. I’ve heard this speech before at nearly every other conference I’ve been to. Half-tuned in and half counting the minutes to our next break, I excuse myself and exit to the lobby. It’s empty save for a few stragglers taking phone calls or working on laptops. I glance down and see a new message fro...
Weekly Contest #354
What the Street RemembersBy Spartacus Lawrence Main Street was once filled with thriving vendors and cafes. Fresh fruit in crates. Flowers in bushels. All for sale from a smiling shopgirl. With raised hands, she'd wave and announce — Apples, oranges, strawberries, come and get 'em — and the street would answer back with the shuffle of feet and the press of coins into open palms. The town was small enough that everyone knew each other. Familiarity embedded in its nature. You didn't need a reason to stop and speak. The reason was simply that y...
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