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Weekly Contest #355
It’s a funeral. I don’t know what else you want me to say about it. They all go the same way, don’t they? People are sad. They dress up, then go out to dinner and pretend to be okay afterwards. This one is no different from all the rest, but I suppose I could try. Let’s see, everyone is dressed largely in black, with hair done nicely, beards shaved, and respectfully boring jewelry on the ladies. That old woman in the black blazer over her blouse and string of pearls, that outfit she keeps in her closet specifically for occasions like these. ...
Weekly Contest #354
I had never noticed it before. How loudly people laughed in public spaces, as if they were in some kind of contest. Who’s the happiest? Who can take up the most space? I couldn’t understand how they found the air to make such a sound when there was hardly enough in this little coffee shop for me to breathe. Each sound changed the shape of the letters on the menu above, making them into something else. Something not for me. Something to separate me further until I wasn’t sure that I was even here. Next to the line I had placed myself in was a...
Weekly Contest #353
We wait for you, our special one, as we always do. We’ve come to expect you, and we are afraid that you are long overdue. Please come home, our special one; have we not proved how much we love you?Love, yes, we think we understand this word. When we first met, we were small and weak. And yet you looked our way. To the ground, and not towards the trees. There on our face, a smile meant only for us, a smile that understood that we too were gods. We were not afraid, though the trees and ferns told us your kind only brings despair and pain. In y...
Weekly Contest #352
Last night, they were green. It took several minutes before I noticed, as generally I keep the bathroom light off first thing in the morning. It was a habit I had adopted since moving in with my boyfriend a couple of years ago. He did it, and that meant so too did I. But before I bore you with details, let me tell you about my eyes. I first noticed it while running a comb through my hair. The eyes in the mirror that were supposed to be mine were blue. Mine were always green.Brush hanging from my hair, I just stood there and stared. If my eye...
Weekly Contest #325
CW: Themes of death. Samara carefully tucked white lilies between the old woman’s clasped hands to hide just how waxy they still looked. Makeup could only do so much. The foundation was too yellow and sank into the fine lines etched across her knuckles. Samara weaved through the stems, splaying out the petals to better conceal the dead fingers that weren’t really holding the flowers, but had been molded around them. The clock above the casket thudded like a rusted metronome. Samara always hated that clock. It was meant for the guests—to remi...
Weekly Contest #324
SHIP LOG: ENTRY 1873.22DATE: 11/07/2086STATUS: AI CORE FUNCTIONALCREW STATUS: Zero Casualties. Captain Mendez Alerted.DAMAGE REPORT: External Hull Damage from Undetermined Impact. Section 4, Deck C and D Breached. Flooding Detected. Directive: Preserve Life Support Systems. Await Rescue.System Notes: Impact detected at 14:46 hours. Per Captain Mendez’s orders, I have sealed Decks C and D. There appears to be a pressure leak occurring at the seams. Mendez did not seem overly concerned. She contacted a nearby ship to begin the evacuation of cr...
Weekly Contest #323
Trigger warnings: portrayal of mental health condition (OCD), death with mild gore, mention of child injury (non-fatal), intrusive thoughts. Tap your feet ten times, or metal will rain from the sky. Without hesitation, Zack raised his knees from the plush sofa he sat on and tapped his toes through scuffed sneakers. One… two… three… “Zack,” Dr. Mirek’s voice lulled, sounding far too sweet. “I thought you said you were going to try.” Four… five… He heard her but didn’t answer. He couldn’t risk losing count. Dr. Mirek leaned back in her sea...
Weekly Contest #322
Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, harsh language. Nick shouldn’t have been watching, but Lydia always had that effect on him. She was the type of woman that made people stumble during performances… or made liars of married men.The rims of her eyes were red. Could just be allergies; it didn’t mean anything. The position was hers. No one else played the violin like her. She leaned into each note and teared up every opening night—she had more soul than anyone else in the entire orchestra. Certainly more than he did, anyway.The conductor shook han...
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