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Weekly Contest #367
Sam Jenkins didn’t mind the gap, and nobody remembered. It was hard to miss. The gap was boarded over. It took him a while; Sam wasn’t that strong. Sammy was only ten years old when he pried the boarding away from the gap.below the plywood boarding, probably assembled by his father and mother, were two steel borders, clearly man-made, clearly over a hundred years old. The steel borders were painted with black-and-yellow warning strips long ago by human hands. They were worn with time, the paint scratched and chipped. They covered a fis...
Weekly Contest #365
Pink plants cascaded down the walls like streamers, all glinting like balloons in a midday sun, but these were lit by a massive yellow halogen lamp overhead, and a sparkling clung to everything, and to the walls' red, and his nostrils were slammed by the scent of freshly machined plastic mixed with deep genuine pine wood freshly cut. Iceland frowned as he crept through the bloodred hallway, because this was all a bit odd, then the lights flickered off. He stood there, shivering, in waves of darkness. The void rolled over him like concentric ...
"Up next!"She beamed, folded herself up, danced over, and clung down onto the seat like a fungal mat. Her freckles spun upon her cheeks as the fierce pink light panned across her cheekbones, and she chewed her gum, sucked at her salivary glands, blinked mud-brown eyes into the camera. The sets of lenses blinked at each other, glittered like diamonds. The shutters contracted, expanded, settled at an excellent light level as large orbs of cerulean blurred across her skin. The stage was set."You understand that you are auditioning for the role ...
The car reeked of stale tobacco.On the dashboard lay an array of seven roses, unevenly crisped in the summer sun, in various stages of petals faded and undersides slightly flushed. They were very clearly placed some time apart, Duke noted, because there was one that had dried to a crisp, pale beyond belief, and that one over there still had recent flush to it, and the one on the far right had a heat crack running down the stem. “What’s with all them?” he asked.“Don’t worry about it,” Lucille snapped back, faux nails clicking the back of the ...
Sensitive content warning: Multiple categories: Substance abuse, Physical violence, gore, or abuse, Suicide or self harm. The angry man is why they called me up.Yeah, that’s why I think they did, at least.You see, I’m a hero of sorts.They call me Captain Sparke, or the Great Hero, yeah, that’s how it is. I have lots of powers, you see. Bright blue vision and fear-sensing, yeah, that’s some of it, except nobody feels fear here anymore.That is except for this fateful day, because, of course, as they tell me so they said, it was because of the ...
Weekly Contest #359
Her soul was agape, and it had many legs, and so it crept out through her parted lips, stretching them out like a doorway. She stared up into the sun, and raindrops pattered down her cheekbones in rivulets. Streetlamps roared their endless song, buzzing like a cicada storm, but Diane was beyond that, beyond the shadowcast bushes, and fused to the sand.Diane’s soul sang brilliantly to that beating golden orb that heated her skin.Her atonal hum trickled down from her lips, pooled in her fingertips, and the shadows lining her neck increased, du...
“The music is beautiful,” Chet Partikov said. He was sat in a black polythene swivel chair, utterly still, in an office with a thick glossy slab desk and drab gray walls.“What?” mumbled Jack Rambles. He was spinning about in his desk chair.“Can’t you hear it?” Chet asked.“No? It’s utterly silent in here, Partikov.”Chet clenched his jaw at Rambles. Damn it, Jack. Chet knew he was right, and that Jack was wrong. But Chet knew that if he chose to press the issue that Jack would call him a set jawed, bulldoggish man who it was a damn pity he was...
“You’ve never taken gloom. Why is that?” The night yawned. It was almost audible; the stretching of the sky was the twang of rubber bands, and it was the clicking rattle of trees whispered strange songs by the transient wind. The violets of the sunset were screaming, churning, and the grains of the beach ground underfoot. I kept my gaze firmly fixed on my fingertips as the palms of my hands bloomed and shook. To anyone else’s eyes, my hands and my fingertips looked normal. To my eyes alone, the very tip of each finger s...
David stepped around it with flat feet. He was a crooked man, his back was curved like a scythe. Every breath rattled, but he didn’t want to look into it.David wanted to look at the thing inside the red velvet curtain.He limped around the rustling curtain, let the whorls of his fingertips carry him towards it, brushing against its surface. He felt every individual bristle raise, snag against his skin, release, rustle back. The whole rippling crimson ocean tantalized him, carried his waveform across its circumference, tugged on its golden cla...
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