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Weekly Contest #82
1st Feb 2019 Dear diary, Hello, my name is Android. The Oxford English Dictionary (the most respected dictionary in the world and the only software I have been programmed with) defines you as a book in which one keeps a daily record of events and experiences. However, my conversations with people and a quick watch of some films (Voldermort was helluva cunning to have his horcrux transferred in the hands of an infatuated teenage girl), have made it known to me that you are more than mere glue and paper bound together. For some people, you...
Weekly Contest #81
Every day I look at my husband, and I’m painfully aware: I’ve lost some part of him to the new presence in our marriage. Although he can drive, go grocery shopping, help clean a 4-bedroom house every week, and prepare dahl or sabzi every morning, there does not seem to be enough life in him. His legs have thinned, the bones more prominent than the skin. His back pains at least twice a week, while the knee pains only miss a day here and there. He tires easily in his efforts at taking care of me and executing the duties of the male of the ho...
Weekly Contest #78
Sunaina swirled the spoon elegantly in her latte as she talked. The modestly sized diamond ring shone on the middle finger of her right hand as she did the motion and one of the bright cafeteria lights of the convention hit it. Immediately, the din of the chattering, laughing people muted around me. Sunaina’s diamond ring, her lustrous peacock-colored saree, perfectly arranged hair with the rich red lipstick, and beautifully manicured clean nails became the center of my attention. ‘This is the secret to my peace, Amoli.’ Sunaina was saying...
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