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Submitted to Contest #322
“Have you read him yet? Isn’t it just succulent? Pure honey to the literary world, and the talk of everyone. I heard that he has a spot on Oprah, and Kimmel! Just a tour de force!” Annabeth gushed, her sickly sweet words curdling Daniel’s blood. That didn’t mean that he hasn’t read Christof. He had. This party was supposed to be for him. Daniel paid his dues, put in his blood, his sweat, his tears into his writing. He wrote short stories, ghost wrote, and took every low paying, demeaning job. He had a mountain of rejection letters. His car w...
Submitted to Contest #321
CW: Deals with themes of abuse and abortion “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the facts before us are clear. The defendant, Cameron Mitchell, knowingly kidnapped the child, from the safety and security of his mother, Mrs. Gloria Burnam, in the dark of night. Let me remind you, that the child has not been recovered, and the defendant has not cooperated with law enforcement in locating that child. The current status of the child is unknown, and this heartless, cruel man certainly isn’t taking care of this child while he resides in the county ...
Submitted to Contest #320
Kacie walked between the pine trees, sunlight trickling through the needles. A bit of smoke tinged the air, a remnant of the Canadian forests that burn each year. Each step she took she felt her heart lighten. Nature brought her to center. Something she definitely needed, more than ever. She spoke to her mother that morning, as she washed their breakfast dishes by hand. Her mother always played Fox News in the morning, something that Kacie tuned out. She never cared for those talking heads, and her professors told her they were horrible peop...
Submitted to Contest #319
Danielle opened her eyes with with a start, coming back to consciousness. Darkness greeted her, and when she tried to rub her eyes, she discovered her wrists were restrained. A click echoed in the black, and she felt air conditioning. It was then she knew she was naked. What had happened last night? She remembered meeting up with Michelle at Charlie’s Tavern, and two cute guys buying them both drinks all night. Then someone came up to her. Danielle curled her toes trying to remember what they looked like. All that came to mind was that he wa...
Submitted to Contest #318
His applause, instead of echoing off the walls backstage, soaked into the thick red curtains. Paul Blaggert’s hands started to hurt, so he stopped clapping. Lisa couldn’t have heard him, she was on stage taking her bows. But he knew that she heard it in her heart. “Paul! Stop staring and pull the curtain!” shout whispered Mrs. Golden, the stage director. He grabbed at the rope, and yanked on it. The cardinal drapery swished and swayed, and then Lisa’s hand pushed it aside, and gave Paul a big hug. “We did so well out there! Don’t you think w...
Submitted to Contest #317
The afternoon sun beat down, prickling the back of Officer Bradley Longram’s hand. It was his first week, fresh out of the academy, and as a newly minted, duly appointed officer of the law in the Cedar Falls police department, he had answered the calls nobody else wanted. The noise complaints from the elderly busybodies, the cats stuck in trees, the reports of a serial defecator were the calls dispatch gave to him. He stood in an empty parking lot, save from a brown 1991 Honda Civic. It was only a few minutes before he had opened the back do...
Submitted to Contest #316
My neighborhood is peaceful today, because I, the Great Dane, protect this neighborhood. I am not a great dane though, his name is Maxie and he lives next door. My humans call me Roger. Sometimes humans are clueless. They have no idea on what it takes to make sure their homes and streets are secure. They don’t know about the gang of feral and domestic cats that run every operation out here. They don’t know that the squirrels fence every hot item, and that the opossums know everything that pops out in these trenches. Humans go about their day...
Submitted to Contest #315
The sun burned in the high in the sky, passing a judgment all its own. The prisoner, led out by Sheriff Bonjure, shuffled in black leg irons, dry dust from his dragging feet dulling their sheen. The assembled crowd waited, air thick with unwashed bodies and roiling anger that spiced the tongue of all who assembled. “Keep moving, scum,” The sheriff’s deep brogue, framed by his bushy mustache, brooked no opposition. “You have an appointment with Sunset Hills Cemetery after the hangman's noose.” Bozeman was a growing town, one that brought in i...
Submitted to Contest #314
It was still hot out here. When Harry and I went for our walk eariler today, the concrete burned my paws so much that I licked them all afternoon laying on my couch while he stayed in his office. He once left the door open when he was in there, and I wanted to help him out, so I brought my rope in there. He got angry when some stuff got knocked onto the floor, and told me I couldn’t be in there. So I laid on the couch every time he went in there and closed the door. But he always came out for dinner, and shook my bowl to let me know it was t...
Submitted to Contest #313
Rumbling thunder bounced off the surrounding hills, lying underneath the long mournful whistle of a long black train that tolled a dirge whose ebony clawed fingers from the abyss clutched at William Carson’s soul. The howl of the engine hurt his ears as its brakes squealed. Steam boiled out of it with a thunderclap following a bolt of lightning striking the ground nearby, leaving a taste of ozone in his mouth. Drops began to strike his face, tap tapping on the roof of the station, and plinking off the train itself. Two ladies opened their um...
Submitted to Contest #312
“We shall begin momentarily. Please remain seated, and don’t panic. The view-screen will start up, displaying the avatar chosen by your prospective date.” The glass screen covered the space just above the desk, which had a line of caulk that connected the two. It was a small cubby, with walls on each side tightly confining Zach. The metal legged chair scraped on the tile floor, a loud squeak when he moved to make himself more comfortable. A florescent light above the glass screen painted the space in a sickly green. Normally it would be a pr...
Submitted to Contest #311
“Now is the time to decide. You know how I feel about you, how you bring me joy in my life. But this isn’t about me, its about you.” It was about me. Could I see myself with this man, as I grew old? Could I see myself with him tomorrow, introducing him to my friends? Could I see myself baring his children? I opened my mouth to answer, but closed it. I ran through our entire relationship in my mind. It was a short four months ago when I met him. I was in the middle of a photo shoot with the legendary photographer Pierre LaMont. Being photogra...
Submitted to Contest #310
It lay in her mailbox, sleek and black. When Lisa pulled it out, there was a thin coat of wax which made the jet black envelope gleam in the daylight, the inlaid gold trim drawing her eye to the back of it, and the pressed wax seal at the tip of the flap. A scroll and feather pen. It was real. Ever since she joined her writer’s group three years ago, she had heard rumors, whispers and hushed tones about a secret society of writers. When people would talk about them openly, which was rare, they all said that unless this group approved of you,...
Submitted to Contest #309
For Andy... Tubish lay in bed, the dull gray walls around him mirthlessly judging him. The lone window showed the hospital’s internal courtyard, but on this floor from his bed all he could see was more gray walls and windows. He supposed if he got up and walked over there, he could see some green, but it might as well be the moon. At this late stage, getting up meant calling Nurse Rackett, who always brought her scowl and an argument on why he shouldn’t be getting up. It wasn’t worth it to see a speck of green. At least the Gophers were on. ...
Submitted to Contest #308
The sun beat down on Luke MacGruder as he strode down the wagon track. His spurs clicked with each step, and drops of sweat beaded on the tip of his nose, and fell into the dry dust that coated his boots as he walked to the crossroads. It was nearly noon, and today, a man would die. If he was fast enough, and brave enough, that man would be Buck Vagram, known throughout Carbon County as Black Buck, a violent, whiskey filled gunfighter who had killed six men (and seven Indians and two Chinamen). He had come to Battle, Wyoming Territory, and i...
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