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Weekly Contest #342
I’ve been musing over the story of my high school crush, Andromache Myrsiades, a girl I never spoke to once. In reality, she wasn’t merely a crush, nor merely “mine”; she belonged to the hearts of everyone she met. She was the sun around which every student’s gaze revolved in that high school. You don’t just look past a girl like Andromache. You don’t forget about her easily. And that’s before you learn what she had to do with the shooting that occurred in our sophomore year.It makes sense that the sun wouldn’t know what one of the asteroids...
Weekly Contest #143
Caryota mitis, the fishtail palm. It’s a hard-to-please companion, requiring strong sunlight and plenty of hydration, but this stunning catch is worth tending to. Native to Southeast Asia, it is characterized by fanning, ridged leaves that approximate the shape of a fish’s tail, like a bouquet offered by the sea. An eye-catching specimen with character and presence certain to vivify any home.“Good to know,” Cain muttered, stowing the info card and receipt in his pocket. He hefted the potted palm in his arms, emerging from the damp greenhouse...
Weekly Contest #112
In the autumn season, a paradoxical new life is given to nature. Deciduous leaves lose their suppleness and healthy green colouration to give way to shades of brittle yellow, orange, red, brown and purple. The trees shed these garments slowly, soon to be skeletons with skirts of decaying plant matter. It is part of a cycle of death and eventual rebirth; but so flagrant and beloved a death can rarely be found, in nature or anywhere else. Forests ignite like a star in heat-death, or a phoenix commemorating its life, its plumage flaring up one ...
Weekly Contest #109
The sky is patchy with sparse, moonlit clouds. The pavement, wet from showers earlier in the day, glistens with the reflections of orange lamps and the locks on bay doors shining either red or green. At two in the morning on a weeknight, most of the city is dormant; but on the outskirts, far from any residential grids or common businesses, the warehouse yards are alight and churning out their goods like machines. Not every warehouse is required by its company’s customer demand to run through the night, but Henry’s does; and if it’s meant to ...
Weekly Contest #108
I close my laptop and rub my strained eyes. I've been staring at the screen blankly for almost forty-five minutes, and not a single stream of inspiration has flowed through my mind. The words I've typed are weak, destined for a cruel fate of highlighting and deleting. Prompts and expectations have been staring back at me with impatience and derision. I can just tell, they're ready to yell at me. A fresh, cold drink and a walk may help the avenues in my brain open up again, but it's been getting harder to reset my mind after it muddles. I don...
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