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Weekly Contest #304
Ashwater was what the troll called the place beneath the glacier, where the snowmelt turned gray with soot, where the birds never flew, where the rocks wept black tears no one could explain. He said it was older than language, deeper than death, and that only children could find it.Brynja was nine the first time she heard the name.She had wandered past the schoolhouse fence on a Wednesday afternoon, chasing a dog that wasn’t really there. Past the sulfur springs, past the collapsed turf church where moss grew over gravestones and the wind ma...
Weekly Contest #289
“The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.” I'm telling you, one moment I'm tucked away in my sanctum of a bedroom, and the next? The stench hits me like a sucker punch - an unholy blend of decomposing cabbage and garlic, somehow laced with an almost saccharine sweetness. It's an olfactory assault unlike any other. Swallowing back bile, I try to make sense of this new reality. The room is a cavernous abyss; the only light comes from harsh fluorescents that paint everything in sickly green hues. An irregular drip-drip-drip ech...
Weekly Contest #282
Maggie propelled herself into the sterile, clinical embrace of the emergency ward. Her young son, a blond-haired boy with ebony eyes that shouted louder than any silence he ever maintained, lingered behind. His little hand clutched his arm as if it were his only connection to reality. Maggie's words sliced through the rumble of hospital machinery and low-voiced discussions. "Cycling mishap," she declared in a tone as sharp as a scalpel. "Possible break. Needs medical care." The receptionist, a woman whose maturity had been sweetene...
Weekly Contest #272
The world teeters on its axis, spinning with relentless fervor. I'm caught in the whirlwind of its dizzying dance, a flurry of color and jarring sound that engulfs my senses. I twirl in my yard amidst this chaos, the hem of my dress billowing outwards in a bold display of pink that harshly contrasts with the eerie silver glow cast by the full moon hanging heavy in the night sky. My dress flutters around me like iridescent wings of a butterfly trapped mid-flight - delicate yet pulsating with life. It's vibrant, almost violently so, a garish s...
Weekly Contest #266
Inga was a creature of the written word, her soul resonating with each rhythmic patter of the keyboard. The blinking cursor on an otherwise barren screen was like a siren's call, luring her to pour out her deepest yearnings in digital prose. Her fingertips bore hardened callouses from their ceaseless dance across the keys, each letter leaving its mark on her skin like indelible tattoos of every fleeting thought and whimsical fancy. She found herself buried in the drudgery of a thankless job at a company that peddled overpriced paperwei...
Weekly Contest #244
A blood-curdling scream tore from Amelia's throat as she stared at the photo on her camera. It had been four days since she had arrived at the desolate ranger station nestled deep in the heart of the Steens Mountains. Her mission had been to capture the landscape for a prestigious nature magazine, promoting tourism to this remote region of Oregon. She pulled her pickup truck into a spot next to the ranger station and shut off the engine. Stepping out of the vehicle, she inhaled the thin, crisp air, filled with the refreshing scents of p...
Weekly Contest #212
Monticello, Minnesota Tuesday, November 12, 1957 Dear Elmer, I am going to send you a few lines and will write as I think along. I am getting so that the fingers on the left hand are beginning to line-up a little better than they did a while ago so I can peck away today. Yesterday, the 11th of November, it was just three months since I had a little touch of something. It was on August 11th that my right side went on kind of a strike, it was hard to talk or eat and my right hand and right foot did not want to go the same...
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