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Weekly Contest #77
The snow descends in thick, peaceful flurries, and accumulates, heavy, on the bare branches of trees and green firs. I watch it all from behind the glass of my bay window as I sit on a cushion bench tucked underneath it. I sit and stare. I reminisce and hope. I hope I am right, that all of it was real, and that it will happen as I expect it to. For you see, when I was seven years old, an event happened that changed me forever. An event that promised reoccurrence. And though now, at 87 years old, I tend to forget most of my childhood, these ...
Weekly Contest #27
The first step was always the hardest. The problem did not lie in the step itself: it was a large enough step for one to place their foot comfortably upon it. It was also the proper height; not so high as to make you trip when you'd try to reach it, and not so low as to make your heart skip a beat when you thought for a second that you were falling through the floor. Ergo, the problem did not lie in the step itself. The problem did not lie in the doorway either. It was a fine, regular-looking doorway: the sas-like entrance to any mode of tra...
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