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Weekly Contest #186
If a Butterfly Flaps Its Wings… Robert Wrecks It The highway was almost deserted as Robert navigated his minivan towards home. Behind him, his three children slept; in the darkness, Robert smiled to himself. A Newbery, he thought. 20 years listening to critics take my work apart at the seams….and now…a fucking Newbery medal. Winners had been announced earlier in the day; Robert’s latest book of children’s poetry, titled Teddy Bear Dreams, was among them. He’d written it for his children, and his editor didn’t want to publish it, but he’d...
Weekly Contest #160
The distant rumble of thunder followed Tess as she made her way into the house, laundry basket balanced against one hip. She paid no attention to it; there had been thunder in the distance every afternoon for nearly three months, and still, there was no rain. Heat thunder, her grandmother called it, claiming that it was common during the Dust Bowl. The intermittent rumblings brought no sign of relief from a nearly year-long drought and summer of relentless, triple-digit heat. Looking at the brown grass, dead tree lea...
Weekly Contest #158
She leaned forward, hair partially obscuring her face, a cigarette held to the lighter in his outstretched hand. She inhaled deeply and sat back, exhaling smoke and misery in one long sigh. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go,” she said softly, “There was supposed to be more time.”’He watched her in silence, her words hanging in the air like the smoke from her cigarette. She was right, he thought. There was supposed to be more time. People always thought that; everyone who came to him had plans that were theory only, plans that, no matter ...
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