Come to Papa, Mia! You’re such a smart girl, such a smart girl! Papa loves you, Mia! Come to him!
And, as she approached, Ricco grew less okay with it all. She was thirteen months yesterday, and closer to death than before. As was Ricco. And Maria. And he had no answer to that. He had no way of slowing this single moment, captured behind a lens and imprinted onto photopaper.
There was time, and this was time.
Mia grin grew unsure. Ricco adjusted his expression and encouraged her. Into outstretched arms, she stumbled the last few steps.
Ricco decided against holding those last few steps against her, and welcomed her into a spinning embrace.
Hello readers. Below, you will find my entry to a weekly writing contest run by Munazza Bangash. It may win, it may lose, but it will certainly be an experience. The topic is: a bad habit to be broken. I have chosen poor oration. You’ll see why.
I started panicking at the end of Hayden’s speech, and I was done for. A classroom is a hospitable place for a lecture, but an introduction speech? Forget about it. I hardly knew the guy. He could’ve been the Messiah-incarnate and I’d have no clue. But I had prepared a two minute speech, nonetheless. And it was my turn. Continue reading
Second-chance dance: for your posts that need more views, likes, and comments.
Opportunities for publication:
Anthologies: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
6 Incredible Blogs Before Breakfast
I balled my fingers when I caught her staring. Receptionist have such long, well-kept fingernails. Often, they’re French-pressed. Looking so fake and pretty and false, but they keep the handsome bosses around and the command the respect of a woman with a desk job. I placed them gently below the counter while maintaining eye contact. She blinked rapidly. Continue reading
Cranking the car rewarded me with dread, but the voice on the other line wouldn’t let me feel otherwise.
Have you left yet?
I pulled the phone away from my ear and mumbled to myself, shouldn’t have told her class was cancelled.
Yeah, I admit it: I’m a shitty girlfriend. I don’t call her. I don’t answer each text, meticulously professing my love to her. Uh-uh. I’m not that kind of girl.
I love from afar. But, as I turned onto the highway, afar grew shorter and shorter.
I just left hon, there’s a bit of traffic but I’ll get there.
I don’t want you to get here and be useless.
I hate that.
I hung up and screamed at the phone. The passing elderly woman stared at me. My windows were down, and everyone could see the crazy lesbian who couldn’t articulate how badly she needed to be at school.
I hadn’t made it out of town yet, but I already missed solitude. As the speed limit jumped to 55, Laina called me again. I sighed, and answered.
Your service sucks!
58. I passed my first mile marker. I had til 137.
So does talking on the phone while driving.