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Weekly Contest #67
Gusts of thickly humid wind pulsed against my ears just as the waves below me rhythmically lapped against the dampened wooden hull of our ship. A sail far above my head, the smaller of the two which we had loosened on our land-bound approach, flapped wildly, shaking salted drops off its fabric like a dog fresh from the water. I clasped one hand atop my hat to keep it from flying off as I turned to the captain. “Captain Moodey!” I shouted over the thunderous wind and waves. “Captain Moodey!” I repeated, stepping towards him. His dark ...
Weekly Contest #63
I do not have the reason why we do it. All I know is that we always have. The day the frost nips under our plumes and bites through the leather of our feet is the day it begins. As if our brains are one instinctual entity, we take flight together, our wings spread regally and our breasts, soon to be raw from the constant wind, exposed to the crisp Ontario air of November. We will not stop until we get there. I do not know the way, but I know when we arrive. This year, the first frost bit as the sun rose, and we were off. There was not a...
Weekly Contest #62
The air was as crisp as the amber and scarlet leaves that fell delicately through it. It was as crisp as the cardinal apples that hung on the bushy trees across the yard. My knees sunk slightly into the soft earth of our fenced yard as I crouched beneath a large oak tree, its trunk thick from age. I began digging into the soil with a rusty garden shovel. All around me lay a menagerie of objects: a tiny race car, a tarnished key, a painting of my family from art class, a keychain of a black dog, a letter to myself, and, most importantl...
Weekly Contest #61
Far in the west, the sky was bleeding. The setting crimson sun was a round bullet wound, splattering blood-like stains amidst the cloud cover. The gunmetal clouds hung in the east; they were weeping. I, like the sky, was angry no matter which angle you looked at me. Even though I had my rain hood pulled all the way up, my brow still furrowed, and my lips pursed into a tight frown. I...
Weekly Contest #60
The perfectly round moon hung high in the inky black sky once more. Its halo cast a velveteen effect on the tree-topped horizon and sugared the nearby grasses, dimpling in the gently trickling river. In another world, another time, the view would have been magnificent. But Juniper sighed as she gazed up at it, her fawn colored hair grazing the top of her tattered linen pants. The moonlight even shimmered against her nose tip and cheek bones, reflecting in her irises as a pinpoint of white light. But to Juniper, the angelic full moon han...
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