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Weekly Contest #345
“Write about someone who must fit their whole life in one suitcase.”A PACKED LIFE I must fit enough things into a medium sized checked airline bag to accurately depict 74 years. And I’ll do it in a “flash!” I make a checklist on my iPhone with boxes and little balloonsI usually drift to sleep thanking God for “family, friends, and faith.” Family sparkles in the Christmas photo from the early 1980’s. Jane is young and gorgeous, and I even have a bit of hair! The ski photo of me and both boys taken at the top of the lift on an azure New Mexico...
Weekly Contest #343
CW: Language and sexual suggestions.STUCK IN SMALLVILLE Day by day I grow older, fatter, dumpier. I have man boobs and bladder problems. My stomach is too big and my ass, too small. My wife, Brenda, claims I never had a bottom. But she once gave me a naked spanking for my 21st birthday. Nostalgia washes over me these days as I watch middle school sports. And I see a lot of it because my grandson is an elite cross-country runner. I wouldn’t ordinarily make wishes to a genie. Hell, I wouldn’t usually see a genie. Except t...
Weekly Contest #342
This story describes a rather brutal, teenage hazing initiation. TELL ME ABOUT YOUR FATHER I expect to lie on a sofa. But I sit on one across from her wooden rocker. “So, your depression started after your father’s death. Tell me about him.” I think she likes my crooked smile filled with broken teeth from sports. Maybe I’ll just use that and dodge the question. But I slowly open the door… “He was always more of a ‘daddy’ than a ‘dad.’ He played ball with me in the backyard…took me to town on errands…to the b...
Weekly Contest #341
PETER, PAUL AND MERRYWEATHERNow faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1 ESV*** You almost certainly surely remember the worst bad news. I’m sorry he didn’t make it through the operation. Or there’s been a terrible accident. But do you remember the strangest bad news? *** I wake up in a decrepit, dumpy room in a fishing camp overlooking a lake about 100 miles from Fort Worth. It’s a brown world covered in frost. I drive the four-wheeler back down the isolated dirt road to an upscale ...
Weekly Contest #340
SUGAR The handsome little boy presses his nose to the glass and looks at me longingly. I try to look cute. A bit of a stretch for a strange-looking beagle/basset mix puppy. I have a long, stocky basset body. And an engaging beagle face with floppy ears like Snoopy. My elite nose leads to fun and trouble! I look straight into his mesmerizing blue eyes. Young and kind, he has a baby face, a full head of jet-black hair, and a deep tan from playing soccer. I think I heard his daddy say he’s 10. But he looks 7. I’ll only allow the best ...
Weekly Contest #339
I can’t retrieve the steps for lighting the stove. I can’t stop shivering and my thinking’s confused. Two signs of hypothermia. The stove “instructions” which elude me are buried deep in my mind like a forgotten phone number. I can’t pull them out. I know that the stove is filled with precisely the right amount of fuel. I don’t have to waste time in this life-threatening situation filling it. And I’m not sure I could perform a fine motor skill like pouring fuel into a tiny funnel nestled in the stove’s tank spout. I can go straight to ...
Weekly Contest #338
ONE STEP AT A TIME I paw through dust, must and mold. In a decrepit book store in Santa Fe. The book belongs in such places. There it is. The backpacking gods cast a halo onto it. I pick it up; examine it; read the first chapter. I buy it, read it cover to cover in one night. Backpacking One Step at a Time by Harvey Manning. My life changes forever! I couldn’t have found it that way. The title isn’t catchy. It’s outdated-looking and frumpy, not glossy. A black and white photo of an old man hiking with ancient gear graces the co...
Weekly Contest #337
BUCK! Lovingly reimagined from Grandpa Van’s true stories about EARLY 1900's Alberta…a place that in 2026 seems far away and nearly forgotten… Oklahoma, 1950’s The Robinson family had many dogs. But most of us never knew the best one. When we came to know Buck, he existed only in Grandpa Robinson’s memories. So, pull up a chair next to your fireplace. Alberta can get cold in January! And listen carefully, for Grandpa had a soft and gentle voice. I’ll tell you the story of how he gave his best dog away. Since he was a part time...
Weekly Contest #336
REPLY TO ALLAn older lawyer once told me, “Adam, a man can’t practice law without saying the word, ‘shit.’” He also assured me that there’s a special god that protects lawyers: his name is “Ah Shit!” Most lawyers can out curse any sailor. I developed a colorful vocabulary of words that would “make a crow blush” and plenty of creative ways to put them together. I almost never wrote those words. But when I did write them…I couldn’t take them back.The real God—not Ah Shit—was working. Even when I hit “reply to all.”I was so frustrated with Chr...
Weekly Contest #335
HARD ADVENTURE…HARDER CHOICESAlberta, April 17, 1912 Dawson Robinson sat alone on a bench in the Canadian Pacific Railroad Station in Edmonton, Alberta. In his left hand, a rabbit’s foot. In his right, her telegram. It was clear and warm. Spring had finally arrived. The last of the snow was quickly retreating. Lost in thought, he stared north, towards the Athabasca River crossing and his homestead located on Flat Creek. The long summer days would come soon. Eighteen-hours of preparing the land for crops. Laying in enoug...
Weekly Contest #334
Lost at the Lake “It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling and it was almost dark.” Hans Christian Andersen, The Little Match Girl. Creed gazed at the frozen, pristine surface of Williams Lake as the wind whipped the snow in sheets. The lake sat at just over 11,000 feet. Surrounded by snow already nearly 7 feet deep. Above the timberline. In the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. At the base of Wheeler Peak. The highest point in New Mexico. At most, the temperature was 5 degrees above zero. He wasn’t in the right p...
CW: Mature themes related to substance use and sexual content. The Tortoise and the Satirical Hare I’m going to tell you “exactly” what happened in that infernal race. The one where I lost but was cheated out of a win that belonged to me! Cheated because the Turtles conspired against me. Thankfully, the kind folks over at “Reedsy” sent me this Prompt. Asked me to tell you my side of the story.I crossed the finish line fast, fresh, and flashy. And there was that tortoise! Wearing a crown. Covered in medals. Holding a trophy. A garland of wild...
Weekly Contest #333
Pork Chops with Brown Rice “These pork chops taste like shoe leather. What’s your mom teaching you to make these days? It’d have to be better than this.” “Pork chops with brown rice. Mine are way better than these. Come over tomorrow night and I’ll show you.” Randall drained his coke. “Adam, I have the perfect recipe for finding girls.” Would this turn out like Judith? Randall told me that he’d heard she “liked me.” I was more likely to strike up a conversation with a rattlesnake than...
Weekly Contest #331
The Heart Window House Angry bursts of wind-driven snow and sleet exploded against the roof of the lonely mountain cabin. Empty without Amelia. Lightning flashed on the high peaks; thunder echoed down the valleys. Vicious clouds of ice crystals smashed into the heart-shaped shutters. Adam glanced at the envelope on the kitchen table addressed to Perkins and Blodgett, attorneys at law. Beside it was a binder. He was so alone. He whispered the haiku she’d written in 9th grade English. The snow came down like silver salt and ...
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