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Weekly Contest #370
Keppler died from pneumonia two weeks ago, the first of December if I’m remembering this correctly. The morning when I had first learned of his death, it had been cold. Miller street’s brick buildings and cobblestone alleys had been buried, practically painted white. The roads had been slogged with snow and mud and bodies. Along the wintery roads trudged slouched men with drawn faces. They were the common folk of West Bend. Already soot-covered before they had even reached their factories or started their shifts. The gaunt men walked shoulde...
Weekly Contest #367
"If you can't read stop signs, get off the road!" My father gripped the steering wheel of our fish-mobile until his tentacles turned white.Honking vehicles blurred past as we jetted down Coral Avenue.Approaching a yield sign we slowed. "Father look, a guppie!" I rolled down my window and gawked at the man.I love guppies!Walking behind the guppie was a swordfish, next to him a Leatherback turtle. Finned, stingered, and tentacled passersbys filtered past sandstone store fronts and cave entrances.Mother shoved her compact mirror back into ...
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