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Weekly Contest #258
I moved into my new apartment on Forest Avenue in Ridgewood just a block from the elevated M train, and I haggled with the landlord about the monthly rent because of the noise and rattling of the rooms when the train went by. Instead of lowering the rent, he agreed to include utilities in what I was paying, so I was happy about that. When I moved in that spring with the trees budding outside my third-floor window...
Weekly Contest #251
In December 1922, Ernest Hemingway’s wife Hadley lost his suitcase filled with all his written work – what he called his “juvenilia” in a letter to Ezra Pound – in a Paris train station. It has never been found until now. I bought an old house on the north shore of Long Island with a view of the sea. A fledgling writer, I had come into an inheritance and hoped that this place would be conducive to getting my creativity flowing. I certainly imagined myself capable of doing any...
Weekly Contest #239
Stopping at a gas station in the middle of a desert that stretched as far as the eye could see, Tim watched the attendant pumping gas into his SUV. The man had slicked back hair and the name “Jose” sewn on the pocket of his uniform shirt. Riley came out of the bathroom with a frown on her face as she pinched her nose. Tim asked, “Are we on the right road to Vegas?” Jose finished pumping gas, pulled the nozzle o...
Weekly Contest #197
It felt like a sucker punch when Nick found out that he was going to die. He sat there with his mouth hanging open as the woman he had just met gasped, dropping her drink on the table and covering her mouth with her hand. “What’s wrong?” Nick asked, looking up from the grilled salmon he was eating. They were on a blind date, set up by his sister Gina who was Veronica’s best friend. She picked up her glass and then started patting the spillage with her napkin. “I…I had a vision.” Nick studied her appearance – dirty blonde hair, pale skin, ...
Weekly Contest #33
I sit in the waiting area of the local barbershop looking at my phone. There are magazines on a table, but I’m not touching them with this coronavirus going around. I don’t even want to get a haircut, but my hair is getting kind of long, and I have a wedding to attend next week.This shop is across the street from Dugan’s Bar, Nino’s Pizzeria, and Edgar’s bodega, which is on my corner. A diverse cast of characters in this Brooklyn neighborhood frequent all these places, interacting with each other in humorous ways. My diminutive neighbor Mann...
Weekly Contest #32
Standing in his penthouse apartment, Arthur Jameson looked out the window at the skyline while sipping a dry Beefeater martini. The city glittered in the dusk under the liquid saffron sunset painting the buildings with its ravishing brush. His assistant Bob Merle sat at the desk behind him, zipping his fingers across the keys of the laptop. He looked up and said, “They accepted the deal, Artie.”“Ka-ching!” Artie said with a smirk. “Your efforts in drafting the proposal did the trick, Bob.”Bob closed the laptop, got up, poured himself a drink...
Weekly Contest #31
It’s not a well-kept secret that the bodega on my corner has the best damned coffee around. You can keep your Starbucks and Dunkin’! This cup of joe is great whether you take it black or with milk and sugar, and it’s always piping hot. Depending on how my morning is going determines how I take it. This particular day is not going so well. I work from home editing and proofreading mostly garbage, but since it pays the bills, usually I don’t complain too much. I’ve been working on this long manuscript by some professor who thinks it’s his magn...
Weekly Contest #30
Ten-year-old Rick and his friend Brian went down into the vast, dark basement under Rick’s seaside home on the south shore of Long Island not looking for adventure. They had been having lunch in the kitchen and bouncing Brian’s ball back and forth to each other until Rick missed it, and the ball bounced across the floor and then into the opened doorway that led to the basement. Rick and his Dad sometimes did projects down there, but there was something creepy about it. Now, for some reason, the lights weren’t working, so the boys crept downs...
Weekly Contest #29
My sister the nun came home on the Friday before Thanksgiving carrying a pizza box and shoebox balanced on top of it. Upon seeing Roselyn walk into the house in regular clothing, my mother dropped her cane and fainted in the hallway. My brother Jack and I carried Mama into the living room, putting her on the sofa and propping up her head with a pillow. “Giuseppe,” my mother whispered to me as she woke, “I think I saw your sister’s ghost, and she’s bringing me pizza and shoes.”“Mama, you aren’t seeing any ghosts,” I said. “Rosie came home for...
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