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Weekly Contest #338
Frogs are born in my attic. Every Sunday, I reach rung after rung and eat the babies.Every Sunday, I am humiliated.I have learned to fry the legs and char the toe pads but have also accepted they taste best raw. They squirm in my mouth before I crunch bone and feel the small creature fall limp on my tongue. I hunt in my own home, reminding the windows and ceiling I am a strong girl.Frogs are frogs, my mother told me. They don’t feel, she told me. So why do they jump away from us when the attic door creaks open? Just instinct, she told me. Wh...
Weekly Contest #325
The sky fell and my cat told a joke.My cat, terrible and wiry, hatched the day I found her shaking in a dumpster puddle. She used to balance on Tom’s shoulders and push her head into the back of his.“Like Chicken Little,” she brayed before retreating under the couch. Her head had poked out like a Jack-in-the-box to deliver an unfunny line from a movie she watched with Tom. We used to call her John Mulaney because she wore a suit and told jokes all day.But the world is standing still in my kitchen, where a man just fell through my ceiling. Th...
Weekly Contest #316
Rion was born a lizard. He grew scales on his toes first, watched them crawl toward his eyes until he was green and brown all over. He was a disgusting cretin, he knew, but he walked through life with a sense of pride for it. At least nobody likes me for my looks, he told himself, at least nobody will marry me for power. His teacher told the class he was in a fire. A grotesque tragedy that shook the earth and and burned property for days on end. He watched his class tremble, wondering what type of disaster could leave scales all over the bod...
Weekly Contest #290
Had I known, I would have asked him not to return me. I hung from the roof and begged him to use his one chance, the one everybody gets to return somebody else’s life to their lungs. A lot of people save it for their kids just in case or their parents for a little extra time but he relinquished his to a stranger. He was the first to find me in a gutter-clean gone wrong. He lived next door but we spoke infrequently enough about nothing that mattered (did trash day get pushed for President’s Day? Has your sink been draining really slow? Is the...
Weekly Contest #289
The dragon lies to everyone but me. He told me so. “You’re not like the others,” he told me so. I was the only one to enter his keep and exit with air, the only to see his gold and slow the steel, and the only to breathe his fire and endure the scorch. He told me so! When I first trespassed his lair, the gold there smelled like pennies. His perfume - a rich musty odor that stayed in my lungs and hurt my chest - was consuming and hideous: everything stunk. His scales flaked and his eyes burned. His prison was dank and clammy, but ...
Weekly Contest #288
From heaven, she sent lightning to a small town. From heaven, she watched her people scatter.She was angry with them. A fat, silver-haired man wailed from his porch and she laughed - her kindergarten teacher. The market woman with the kind face and dulcet voice wept as her cribs burned. Charlotte poked at shame but the moment passed. She lit a church on fire, watched the devout burn from their knees up. Don’t feel bad because she didn’t. Of course they wronged her — had you guessed already? — accused her of sin, called her a dog, fed he...
Weekly Contest #287
Together we mourned the fever, only months old. The ice ruined us and the bridge leading to town, to space and time, to money and food and everything we need to remain deserted and stingy. Horses tried, boots tried but everything was oily and our bones quickly exhausted, our muscles coddled after decades of mild winters. My name set up camp north of the river and across a wide and unyielding bridge, according to the state’s history books, and we’ve time and time again seen the folly of absolute resolve. The grass yellowed quick, everything g...
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