And the Editors’ Choice Is… “Dead Air” by Ron Gibson, Jr. Congratulations to Ron for winning a copy of Writing Academy’s Novel Writing Workshop! Don’t forget, 101 Words readers can get 50% off any of the Writing Academy workshops. Just use the coupon code ‘101words’. Bonus Prize The reTweet prize is awarded to Jim Landwehr.…
Writing Contest - Issue 4
Below you will find all stories that were submitted for this contest.
Brief Interlude
By James ( Jim ) Freeze
Kate stood close to him at the boardwalk rail, so close that Joe could feel the touch of her blonde curls as the wind blew them softly against his cheek. Below them an orange peel floated by in the wake. Their eyes followed it as it bobbed and sank in the white foam. Then Kate…
Love Disease
By Hedieh Mehdi Zadeh Kashani
“He picks the scabs to keep it fresh and shows it off at parties. His skin is disgusting. Look at my battle wound… Look at me hurt! It’s not from another person. He gave it to himself. Can I have a sip of your drink?” “You shouldn’t have spent the night.” “I only remember bits…
It Burns
By Iliana De La Trinidad
A baby’s cry pierces the night. His mother rises from her bed and runs. She cradles the boy, softly singing. “Darling, it’s okay. Mommy is here.” But she wasn’t. Soft footsteps stop in the door frame. A little girl stands, her daughter. Dark hair cascades over the ten year old’s face and the burnt nightgown…
Momentum
By Azura Mirza
She glanced at the speedometer. 90 mph. He drove with such focus: eyes unflinching, jaws set, body alert. The world around him melted away. It was almost as if… “Who are you running from?” she asked, her silent thought turning into an audible question. Lights blurred past as she gazed ahead in anticipation. It was…
Dead Air
By Ron Gibson, Jr.
When the earth turns its back on the sun, a co-dependent lover seeking independence, the nicotine-stained flophouse wears the night like a bruise. Outside the window, gaunt shadows pace concrete like panthers, lost in life, hungry for hunger. A solitary light bulb keeps guard, and she holds onto a book like armor. Clock chimes mark…
Moving Day
Gemma was a good girl, once. She hit trouble after her mom died. Parties. Bad boys. She was gorgeous, but her genes couldn’t compensate for the liquid abuse. From liquor to drugs, she never said no. Until today. I passed her on the stairs. Bleary eyes. Ripped skirt. A flash of strength. “I’m moving.” Thumping…