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Weekly Contest #161
Carmen stared down at the faintly glowing body in disbelief, her ragged breath the only thing preventing her from appearing as a statue, completely still. “Ta da!” The Mystic beside her brandished a shaky, liverspotted hand at the young girl on the floor. “One lover, locked and loaded!” “Are… are you…” “Always this amazing? Yes, yes, I–” “Freaking kidding me?” Carmen finally snapped, turning to stare at the Mystic with bulging brown eyes. “This is not in any way what I asked for– what I paid for!” “Oh, no, no, no,” the Mystic chid...
Weekly Contest #112
Later, when she’s older and her bones pop when she bends down, she’ll remember this. It makes sense. It smells the same-- Nebraska isn’t so different from Missouri in the rain, and it’s the same muddy scent, even though she’s on the driveway and not in the grass right now. The smell remains the same, and it’s the smell that’ll make her remember, when she’s older, this day in the rain. She’ll remember how the rain beats down, plastering her hair to her forehead. It will be longer by then, but for now it's short and stuck against her sk...
Weekly Contest #111
She looks young. Twenty-three, maybe? I’m biased, of course-- she reminds me of my youngest sister a bit. It’s the hair, I think, or maybe the clothes-- nice enough, but a little poorly fitting, like she’d gone out with her mother before starting the job and bought anything that seemed business casual enough to wear in a government building. “Marianne, right?” She shrugs, as if she isn’t sure. She’s still shaking. “You can call me Annie, I guess. Everyone does.” “Alright, then, Annie, why don’t you have a seat.” I tried to pic...
Blech. The coffee’d grown cold and whoever’d made it that morning had somehow managed to screw up the most basic of processes, leaving a muddy floor of silty coffee grounds in the paper cup. Louise grimaced. Seriously, it wasn’t like it was hard to make a pot of coffee decently. There were exactly two ingredients. She almost spilled said bad cup o f coffee as she sat down, but it’s not l8ike it could’ve made the computer any slower. Louise spun in her chair. Thank God she got paid by the hour. The computer itself wheezed at her, as if...
Weekly Contest #89
The last second of Cassie Maclay’s life was cold, but filled with wonder. The sky was gorgeous, painted in the hues of the residual sunset that hadn’t heard the news that the sun had already imploded, or vanished, or whatever had happened, and she held her baby brother’s forearm with a sort of anxious delight. It was inevitable, as inevitable as the movements of the stars. What was there to be done? She barely understood how the sun works, much less how she could get it to pop back into existence. Astronomy was beautiful, sure, but utterly i...
Weekly Contest #62
Charis leaned over Cleopatra to grab her cup. “So, are you worried about going home?” Cleopatra sipped her wine, and grimaced. The farther they got from Italy, the more bitter and watered down the wine became. “Worried?” “Anxious. You haven’t been home since your dad got exiled. Are you worried that things have changed?” “Of course they’ve changed. I wouldn’t be going home if they hadn’t.” “Don’t play dumb with me.” Cleopatra sighed. “Fine, fine. I’m not worried, per se. I anticipate that it will be… eventful.” “Are you excited, then?...
Weekly Contest #57
Cleopatra tapped her earpiece awkwardly and fidgeted with the microphone in her collar. “And you’re sure that this will translate the… English, you said?” She looked at the markings in the pod nervously. None of the six languages she spoke came in handy here.Maline looked down at her tablet. “It should. English is a bit… strange, so I can’t be quite sure, but you’re understanding me just fine with your translator on and I’m speaking modern Greek now, so it should work for English. I wish I had more time to test it out, but I was just so exci...
Weekly Contest #56
“Ma’am? It’s almost time to meet the ambassador.” Delaney Cohen cracked her neck and buttoned the last button on her top. She puffed out her cheeks and examined her lipstick for any smudges—it’d been a while since she spoke French. Maybe the ambassador would speak English and she wouldn’t have to fake her way through a terrible accent. She grabbed her lucky pebble and slipped it into her skirt pocket. “Ma’am? Ms. Cohen?” “Sorry, Olive.” Delaney smoothed down the fly-aways in her hair and brushed the “I still believe” bumper sticker she’d...
Weekly Contest #52
The snow sticks to my pyjama pants—I knew I should’ve put on jeans, but my bones just ache so much. I fumble with the car keys, which feel unduly clumsy between my fingers. I should’ve just stuck out the fever at home. The parking lot is bare, with only my car and a small pickup truck, but there are lights on in the grocery store so I suppose they’re still open. The employees must park in the back, I guess. The wind blows faster, cutting through my ratty sweatshirt. If I’d known there was going to be a blizzard I wouldn’t have risked dri...
Weekly Contest #48
“Eldest sister?” Bernice looked down at her little sister, whose big brown eyes were, as always, brimming with unbridled curiosity. “Yes?” “Do you know where Father is?” The eight-year-old scrambled up onto a chair next to her sister, peering hungrily at the figs that Bernice had halved for herself. Bernice sighed, and pushed the plate towards her sister. “Go nuts.” “Thanks!” With a gap-toothed grin, Bernice watched as her sister pulled a jar of honey out of her pocket. Clever kid, she thought. She’d planned to steal those figs before...
Weekly Contest #47
The coffee has grown cold in the time since you started the Keurig and proceeded to forget about the coffee entirely. You look down in disgust—nothing worse than cold coffee. You take a sip anyway, grimacing as it pours down your throat. If Jules were still here, she’d tell you to put a little milk, ice and vanilla in there and give it a swirl and it’d be good as new.Jules isn’t here anymore though. You take another sip of bitter, cold coffee.The walk from the kitchen to your computer seems even longer now that you can hear your bare feet sl...
Weekly Contest #44
Marcellus looked up at Mt. Vesuvius, looming over the city like a gentle giant, protecting their city. He tightened his grip around his younger brother and wished he could fill his brother with the mountain’s strength. “It’ll be good again,” he said. His dog, Dorcea, whined, and put her chin on Crispus’s foot. Crispus sniffed and rubbed his eyes. “I know, but… I can’t believe that she’s gone.” “Crispus… Kiddo, she left two months ago. I thought you were doing better.” Marcellus bit his lip. Crispus had always been over emotional, but this...
Weekly Contest #43
“You—what?”Quentin sighed and readjusted his grip on the tree branch. “For the last time, I found a giant stone fox statue in the crawlspace behind my closet and I don’t know how to get it out on my own and I can’t fall asleep with it there because there’s a hole in my closet from that time that we locked Quade in there back in seventh grade.”“So? There’s still a door for the crawlspace, right? Ergo, no problem,” Alexander slurred. He rubbed his eyes and looked up to where the stars would be if it wasn’t for all the light pollution. It was f...
Weekly Contest #42
“Beth, please! Don’t do this! Magic shouldn’t be used like this, you can’t bring her back, you—” “Can’t I?” Beth casts a snide grin at me before looking back at her computer. “No, you can’t! I asked Mal, and he—” “Mal is a child. He never knew the whole of what this power could do.” I squirm. I have to crane my neck at such a severe angle to see Beth from my vantage point of strapped to the floor that it hurts my neck and eyes both. “Only one person has ever succeeded, and they only—” “They only brought the target back for seventeen minutes...
Weekly Contest #32
Emmerson flinched as the cashier reached out with the change. “Your change is three sixty-three, and I’ll have those out to you in just a second.” “Thanks,” Emmerson murmured. Rubbing the palms of his hand with his thumb nervously, he sat down at the table across from the coffee stall and avoided eye contact with the other customers. If he had his phone this wouldn’t be a problem, but the Holly Circlet hated technology so. Emmerson popped his knuckles, lost in thought, and jumped when the barista called “Hot ginger tea, an iced Mint-to-be ...
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