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Weekly Contest #183
George didn’t know the dictionary definition of marriage, but he liked to think of it as two people, one of whom sleeps every night in a room that’s too hot lying in bed next to another who sleeps in a room that’s too cold. This was undoubtedly the case with him and Maggie. George was a city boy through and through. He was born in Brooklyn and had the accent to prove it. He'd never actually said fuhgeddaboudit but, if he had, no one would've batted an eye. Maggie, on the other hand, was a southern belle from Jackson, Mississippi. She freque...
Weekly Contest #180
It wasn't noise that caused his eyelids to flutter. It couldn't have been because all he could hear was deafening silence. He wasn’t even sure where he was or why he had been asleep. He only knew that he was now awake. Dazed, he looked around the cabin, struggling to see anything in the darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he was struck by how nothing and yet everything seemed familiar. His memory, however, hadn’t failed him completely. He knew his name was James, and he knew the woman to his right was Eileen, his beloved wife. That being tru...
Weekly Contest #178
If you knew you were going blind tomorrow, what would you make an effort to see today? An eagle soaring? Or maybe waves crashing on the beach? Certainly you would drink in the smiles of your children, memorizing their faces to help you through the dark days to come. Billy had no such warning, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have had any such list. Billy was the son of an unwed mother who died in childbirth. He had spent the first thirteen years of his life in forgettable foster homes and most of the next seventeen years on the streets of N...
Weekly Contest #177
A life long lived is filled with reminders of days gone by. Some of those memories are housed exclusively in the mind, while others can be found gathering dust in closets, garages, or attics. It was in the latter where Edna found one such keepsake. The unexpected discovery brought her a rush of joy followed by inevitable sadness and—against her better judgment—she decided to share the find with her husband of almost sixty years, Gilbert. “Gilly, look what I found in that old chest.” The leather-faced old man with coke bottle glasses didn’t...
Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #176 ⭐️
To Whom It May Concern, My name is Mosby and I’m a dog—or more specifically—I am a miniature schnauzer and I need your help. I’ve never written a letter before. In fact, I don’t know if any dog has ever written a letter before, but you see, this is very important so I hope you'll understand. Before I go into specifics, I guess I should tell you a little about myself. I was born in 2011, two days before Halloween, on a farm in central Virginia. I don’t remember much about the farm because that was a long time ago and I was really young at t...
Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #173 ⭐️
So here’s the thing, I want to tell you a story about a time capsule. Wait, that’s not entirely true. It’s really a story about two people and a time capsule. Oh, and by the way, this time capsule is also a purse. Don't worry, it will all make sense at the end. I promise. Kathleen, or Kathy for short, was so unique that even peculiar people called her quirky. She was proud of her name, although she wanted everyone to know that not all Kathys were alike. She was fond of saying that Cathys with a C were wimps. She always said this with a sm...
Winner of Weekly Contest #171 🏆
There is a peace at sunrise that surpasses all understanding. It's a renewal. A feeling that anything is possible. I’d like to say I drag myself from the comfort of my bed every day to enjoy sunrise’s splendor, but you wouldn’t believe me and I would be lying. What is true is I was there that day and so was she. There is a connection between sunrisers just because they are sunrisers. It’s a shared, yet unspoken, appreciation for things quiet and beautiful. That might explain why I was immediately drawn to her, but I know it wasn’t just beca...
Weekly Contest #167
“Howdy, ma’am," he said, sitting down on the barstool next to her. “My name is Charlie and before the night is over I’ll have your attention, your name, and your phone number.” “Excuse me, what?” “I said, Howdy…” “I heard you the first time Cowboy,” she replied crisply, taking a sip of what looked like whiskey. “I come here every Friday night, and I have for more than two years. You aren’t the first to try and fail. I always arrive by myself and always go home alone.” “Well, first of all, I don’t plan on taking you home. Secondly, you’ve...
Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #166 ⭐️
In life there are monumental occurrences that act as time-freezing snapshots; the kind of events where, for the rest of your life, you remember exactly where you were when they happened. My grandfather used to speak with reverence about the day he heard that President Kennedy was shot. My mother spoke similarly of finding out about the explosion of the space shuttle Challenger. For me it was the day I stopped playing baseball. I was ten years old when I got my first “real” glove. It was a God’s honest big-league Rawlings rawhide and I loved...
Weekly Contest #165
That night he had lied—he wasn’t working late, he could’ve gone with them, but he went to her instead. No one should have been surprised, after all he had been a cheater his whole life. Whether it was games or cards or taxes, he always found the shortcut, the workaround, the edge. Throughout his life, he had found convenient euphemisms such as resourceful or clever to avoid identifying his duplicity. But, as the years passed, it became impossible to ignore this one undeniable truth: cheaters cheat. A melting cherry Popsicle, the enemy of a...
Weekly Contest #164
Brad stood silently outside Dr. Gardner’s office within arm's length of the dark wooden door that stood between him and his future. He had been summoned but still struggled to knock. Over the years Brad had been in his bosses' office more times than he could count but never like this. This visit terrified him and he was certain his shallow breath and sweaty forehead would betray his trepidation the moment he entered the room. As a young surgical resident, he had sought out the grizzled chief of neurosurgery and practically begging him to be...
Weekly Contest #162
All the ingredients were there in front of Antonio. There was deli-sliced Land-O-Lakes white American cheese, Food Lion Virginia baked ham, organic salted butter, and Wonder Bread. Yes, Antonio wasn’t much of a gourmet chef, but he could make one mean grilled cheese sandwich. Today, there was one last ingredient: undying love. “How much longer, Tony?” came a feeble voice from the back bedroom. “Not long, my love. Your wait is almost over,” Antonio answered cheerfully, trying hard to disguise his sadness. Annette had been destined to be a ...
Weekly Contest #155
“Are you coming to bed?” The voice startled Jay, and instinctively he placed his phone in his pocket before answering. “I’ll be there in a second, what are you doing up?” Jay’s question was more of a defense mechanism than a quest for knowledge. He was less concerned as to why Pam was up than that she was up. “Do you have a minute?” She asked, sitting down before Jay had a chance to answer. “I’ve been thinking.” In the decade Jay had been married—I’ve been thinking—was second to only—we have to talk—in his list of things he didn’t want to...
Weekly Contest #149
Prisons have a unique smell—a curious cross between perspiration and despair. Debbie noticed it each time she came to visit Seth. It’s a little like blindness, she contemplated as the guard led her to the visitation room. Debbie had heard how people who had lost their sight would marvel at how their other senses became heightened. It must be like that with freedom, too, she reasoned. Her eyes darted around, noticing every crack and stain on the drab walls as she passed through the locked doors and dingy corridors. Even though Debbie was only...
Weekly Contest #146
“What the fuck do you want?” The question Jimmy’s brother asked was straightforward. The answer, however, was not. “My teacher—you see—my teacher, she gave us an assignment. I'm supposed to write a letter or something like that,” Jimmy replied, rambling while trying to maintain his composure. “And I thought you…” “Get the fuck out of here, you piece of shit. I don’t care about your fucking teacher or your goddamn assignment.” Jimmy had thought his commonality with Jamaal would be an asset but, in an instant, he started doubting the choic...
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