posted March 01, 2009 02:36 PM            

Enjoy!
Pat

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posted March 01, 2009 02:38 PM            

It used to be a kind of game. They'd throw pebbles, and I'd spit at them, or grin, and blast my waterbag at them -- if they were playing truant and the parents were at work. But just as often, I'd pull the rope to guide myself along as they walked to school, and we'd talk in the calamitous but sentimental way of boys. And just as often, on the days I caught them sluffing,

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posted March 01, 2009 02:40 PM            

Me and my brother Ben stood in this elevator, listening to the lame music, and not looking at the glowing numbers. We were supposed to go down to the lobby of the hospital, to my neighbor Linda who waited for us with our little sister. We were by ourselves, but I didn’t push the button with the star. The button for the lobby. I didn’t want to see Linda, I mean, no offence to Linda or anything, but I just didn’t want to say the words I’d have to say, you know? Make what happened in that too small hospital room real.
Because, Mom would be fine, she had to be. Didn’t matter she had black veins, or puked green goo into the hospitals toilet. She was going to be fine.
I just didn’t want to have to say words like radiation, or

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posted March 01, 2009 02:41 PM            

Elaine sat in her stiff school uniform and felt invisible, but then, wasn’t that the point of the uniform in the first place, to make sure no one stood out. Except it didn’t work; people still stood out, just not her.
Elaine had no friends, now. At her old school, she’d had friends. Her mom had dropped her off at Agatha’s Boarding school for girls a month ago without any explanation. Elaine had gotten letters from her friends, but nothing from her mother. She slouched lower in her seat and quit taking notes. The teacher wouldn’t notice, no one noticed her.
She reached in her pocket and brought out the key. It had been laying in the dirt outside. She wouldn’t have picked it up, except it wasn’t the typical ‘found in the dirt type of

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posted March 01, 2009 02:43 PM            

“Your problem,” my son said, “is that you don’t have any backbone.”
I chose not to respond. I placed the peanut butter jar on the shelf, turning it so the label faced forward. Sam sat at the kitchen table, feet swinging back and forth. The laces of his tennis shoes tapped against the tile floor.
“If you’d had any courage,” he said, “you wouldn’t have let Dad take me with him.” He pulled the crust from his sandwich, licking specks of peanut butter from the tips of his fingers.
“Do you think that I haven’t gone over and over that in my own mind?” I asked. “I’ve imagined so many ways that the fire didn’t happen. There is no end to the what-ifs.”

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posted March 01, 2009 02:44 PM            

A gangway of bamboo and cane stretched fore to aft over the airship's port engine. Strapped into her reefer's basket at the gangway's tip, inches from the spinning prop, Sam always felt precarious. But never more than now. Gusts of wind threatened to toss her into grey storm clouds scudding below. Despite her aching arms and legs, Sam winched, reefing the solar sail, desperate for a break. But she had to match her pace with Jack, in his aft basket, else the sail would snag. The last pair of reefer monkeys who'd jammed their sail had been sent downstairs.
"Aft secure." Jack's cry was faint under the wind.
Sam locked her winch. "For'ard secure."
"Port reefers may stand down," Gorman said in Sam's helmet phones. "Be ready to set sail immediately we clear the storm."

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posted March 01, 2009 02:47 PM            

Alaina startled the postman by meeting him at the bottom of the stairs in her pajamas. The package was half open before she remembered to thank him.
He smiled. “Registration day is a ridiculous time for the school to start an upgrade.”
“My old Kindle stopped working last night.”
“They all did,” the postman called as he trudged to the next apartment. “But you’re by far the most anxious student I’ve met so far.”
Alaina loved planning her college schedule. Arranging the classes until they were perfect was always a thrill. But this year, she would have to act quickly if she was going to get anything she wanted.

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posted March 01, 2009 02:48 PM            

[This message has been edited by TaleSpinner (edited March 02, 2009).]

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posted March 01, 2009 02:50 PM            

Bobby burst into the living room all bright-eyed, beaming, and breathless. His hurried trail was scribbled across the white kitchen floor and the new blue carpet in size five sneaker mud prints. His hair was disheveled and his clothing worn and over-sized in the tradition of third generation hand-me-downs.
“Grandpa the stars! The ones you always tell me ‘bout. Look, look!” Bobby said pointing excitedly out the window and tugging on the old man’s arm, as if pulling on the sweater would hurry the white haired man out of the well-worn easy chair.
“We’ll see, you’ve pulled my leg about this before young man.” Grandpa’s gestures were tender but his tone was terse.
He let Bobby guide him over to the open window while putting on his glasses. The curtains fluttered, dancing with

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posted March 01, 2009 02:51 PM            

Jonas watched as two kids, his best friends, put a present on the doorstep of his old house.
"He'd have been thirteen," the girl said, her voice distant. The boy next to her nodded, his eyes red with tears.
"I-I'm right here!" Jonas said, though he knew they wouldn't hear.
Choking back sobs, they walked down the street, and left Jonas alone to the gift; a small wooden carving of an owl. All he wanted this year was his friends acknowledgement. A glance in his direction--a smile--anything. The spirits, he knew, were not so kind. He stuffed the owl in his pocket.
His gray, blank eyes stared forward as he walked towards the pub. He hoped it was busy, so that he could drink the

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posted March 01, 2009 02:53 PM            

Ben Hurtle pressed his nose to the door and inhaled.
Right Guard deodorant, Ivory soap, Sauve shampoo with a coconut conditioner.
He threw the door open. A surprised Howard Lumpant stood in the hallway with his fist clenched, ready to knock. Ben pulled the startled man into the confines of his dark apartment and slammed the door shut.
“What the hell has gotten into you, Ben?” he shouted. Ben quickly locked the door and latched the series of chains and deadbolts protecting him from the outside.
“It’s a conspiracy, Howard,” he said as he stuffed a towel into the crack at the base of the door. The brief exposure to the hallway brought a wave of fresh scents. The man smoking a

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posted March 01, 2009 02:55 PM            

I can’t quite recall the first time I could smell someone's imminent death. It’s hard to separate scents when your nostrils are caked with refuse. I spent most of my childhood growing up in the sewers, and it was either get accustomed to the stink or get a beating for wasting a meal when it came back up. I’m proud to say that my Da only had to beat me three times before I learned to stifle my nausea. There were beatings for other things, sure, but when it came to mastering the sewers, I learned faster than any of my brothers.
We competed among ourselves relentlessly, and being the youngest, I had to take my victories where I could get them. Wrestling matches ended with me swimming in filth. Foot races ended with me swimming in filth. Heck, even joke telling ended

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posted March 01, 2009 02:56 PM            

Lydia shifted in her chair and yawned. "I’m tired Jacob. I want to go to bed."
"There’s only a few pages left," her brother told her. "You have to stay awake." He continued reading, glancing up occasionally to be certain that she hadn’t dozed off.
When he finished reading, he slammed the book closed, making Lydia start.
"I hate it when you do that," she said.
"Stop complaining," he said as he slid the book into its place among the hundreds that Mr. Matthias owned. "You can go to bed now."
"Good. That book was boring." She rose from her chair and waving her stick from side to side before her, confidently left the

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posted March 01, 2009 09:54 PM            

Based mostly on the strong prose.

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posted March 01, 2009 11:02 PM            

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posted March 01, 2009 11:14 PM            

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posted March 02, 2009 03:03 PM            

[This message has been edited by Unwritten (edited March 03, 2009).]

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posted March 03, 2009 12:27 AM            

[This message has been edited by satate (edited March 03, 2009).]

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posted March 03, 2009 03:39 AM            

Mind, everyone's enthusiasm is magical ...

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posted March 03, 2009 08:32 AM            

[This message has been edited by snapper (edited March 04, 2009).]

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posted March 04, 2009 09:13 PM            

I must say it is going to be very tough picking two favorites out of that group. Well done everyone.

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