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Weekly Contest #289
She sits in her rocker, looking out at her rose bushes, the buds just beginning to form, wondering when they will bloom. A week, maybe two? “C’mon, Grandma. Time to go.” She startles, looks up. “Go? Where are we going?” “To our new home.” She shakes her head, confused. “This is our home.” “Not anymore, Grandma. Remember?” She looks around the empty room and furrows her brow. “Where is my bed . . . my nightstand? My medicine was on the nightstand.” “It’s all packed. Everything we can bring.” The rest has been sold, but he does not say ...
Weekly Contest #219
Bitter wind howls through cracks in the walls. The chill of the stone floor seeps through her linen skirt and wool stockings, through her kneecaps and deep into her joints, which feel as though they could splinter at the slightest tap. She shivers and coughs, arching her aching back, but she must continue praying until the appointed hour or she will surely feel the lash. The scent of baking loaves drifts into the room. Hunger gnaws at her stomach like rats under the floorboards. She has not eaten since dawn—a snatch of bread before fetching...
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