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Weekly Contest #342
Six hours after mom’s death, my next door neighbor, Clive, who I’ve been in a silent battle with since I was seven, drops a jar of Carbone in his driveway. It explodes atomic bomb style, sending the pretentious tuscan basil tomato sauce across the white cement. He fumes at the ground.I choke back laughter.He doesn’t really know what a bad day looks like.Clive is thirty-four, exactly three years older than me. His parents are loaded. The kind of rich that allows him to keep his house while they reside in a private estate in California. He’s a...
Weekly Contest #285
RACHEL(picking up landline, mid-ring)For the love of Christ, how many messages are you going to leave? It’s going to take me a solid hour to delete all of these. AMYPlease, Rachel. Support groups are a great way to— RACHELNo. AMYWell— RACHELNo, thank you. AMYI paid for you to be a part of this. You’re going. It starts at 7pm. On the corner of Banks and Hodge. Don’t be late. RACHELYou know you can find this kind of thing for free, right? AMYThis group is very good. I’ve heard it’s well worth the money. RACHELAmy. I’m dying. Nothing is worth t...
Weekly Contest #252
To our readers -- the following is a transcript from an interview between our Investigative Reporter, Maggie Maine, and Eliza Slater. Historically, Slater has not been open with the press about what happened fifteen years ago at Clarmont College. In an odd turn of events, Slater reached out to our Editor to speak with someone on the record concerning the events that were so heavily publicized. The interview, while short, was electric. As a result, we believed this story was best told through her exact words. HEREverything comes down to who'...
Weekly Contest #208
Elizabeth Moore had dinner on the table at 5pm, like she did every other weeknight. That night's creation was a new recipe torn from the pages of the latest edition of Better Homes and Gardens. The Best Pot Roast You Will Ever Have, the article claimed. Elizabeth bought a chuck roast, potatoes, celery, and carrots the night before. She set the chuck in a bag of mysterious but delicious juices so it would be at its most flavorful. When the dish hit the table, a cloud of fragrant steam created a fat plume of smoke in the cool air. Her husband,...
Weekly Contest #207
At first glance, it appears Lilith has just stepped out of a romantic comedy. Her white and gray hair is tied in a fluffy bun, sticking straight out from the top of her head. She's curled up in a tight ball on a green velvet couch, sporting a flowy white gauze top and distressed jeans. She's balancing a book on one knee and a cup of mysterious green juice in one hand. A beam of light hits her from behind, making her silhouette glow. This is a startling departure from the woman I grew up listening to and watching on the biggest stages in the ...
Shortlisted for Contest #206 ⭐️
I was sixteen years old when they found the six bodies underneath our living room floor. I’m not one to share personal details – mostly because I have a tendency to run my mouth and say too much – but I think about that night often. Usually as I’m just crawling into bed, in that time between hazy wakefulness and deep rest. Which, if I’m being honest, I’ve never been the greatest sleeper anyway. I’m at my most productive at night. And as a result, I spend a lot of time staring up at the ceiling, contemplating if it will be the night I spill a...
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