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Weekly Contest #106
Today, once again, the table is warmed by the dawning rays of sun. The dips in between each wood grain is still lukewarm, but the sun only grows stronger with each passing minute; underneath the delicate lace of the table runner, the wood is cold there. Already, there are two mugs on the table, only one half-full. When lifted, they leave water stains behind them, the wood stained irrevocably. These rings are marked in patterns of duets all around this wooden table, some overlapping like rings, and others just shy of touching. Here, water is...
Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #83 ⭐️
Live. You gasp — air fills your lungs like glass, bringing you painful life and you cannot get enough of it. Once, twice, your lungs are filled most excruciatingly, but this pain is not allowed time to mellow into nothingness — darkness closes in again just as rapidly. Live. Again, you are thrusted up beyond the surface; the darkness remains, for you do not open your eyes. Air — how do you know what air is — fills your body, and you are forced to breathe in and out — how do you know how to breathe — and this is a luxury. You slip beneath ...
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