Qualified Entry, Second pixelhose Writing Competition. Nonfiction Category.
By Tina de Lemos
Hi, my name is Tina. I am a lost soul. My words don’t count. My screams don’t speak even in the stillest and most silencing moments of the night. My dreams and desires have been pushed over a cliff. And yet I travel. No matter how weary or tired I am, I travel. Continue Reading
Qualified Entry, Second pixelhose Writing Competition. Nonfiction Category.
By L.C. Nate
A little while ago, I asked a student this question. “If we added one more hour in a day, will there be enough time to do everything we needed to do?” She said no. How many times have I heard people say, “If I had only one more hour, I could have finished the job.” Continue Reading
Qualified Entry, Second pixelhose Writing Competition. Fiction Category.
By Kevin Fitch
The bar was a shit hole, dark and dingy, on the worst side of town, my kind of place. I took a seat near the end of the bar; a twenty foot long, six inch thick slab of hardwood, faded and scarred from years of abuse. I was close to the door, as far from anyone else as I could get. I threw twenty bucks on the bar and ordered two fingers of Jack. To call it a dive bar would be kind, or cruel if you happened to own a dive bar. I guess it all depended on your perspective, whether you were a glass is half-full or half-empty kind of guy. No one in this place could ever be described as the half-full type. Continue Reading
Qualified Entry, Second pixelhose Writing Competition. Fiction Category.
There are reasons you don’t talk about it. Most of them are stupid, but you don’t talk about it anyway. Mostly because it feels like little-kid bragging while not really having anything to back the bragging up. You know how it is. Maybe you don’t talk about it because no one cares. Or because of the searching way people look at you. You used to talk about it a lot, but now you’ve stopped. Just live it, that’s what you tell yourself. Walk the talk. Continue Reading
By Pat Harris
One of the massive stone faces that distinguish Angkor Wat
About a billion years ago, give or take a few weeks, a bunch of people settled somewhere in the Northern part of the present-day Cambodia. For their time, they were the “Big Bad.” They ruled a large area, built what was then the largest pre-industrial city in the world, and, eventually, erected temples as the proof of their superiority: The holy city of Angkor; an elaborate series of temples dedicated to worship of their monarch-God. For a while, a long time in fact, life was good until the Khmer Empire’s story ended the same way as all other Big Bads in history: a Bigger, Badder bunch showed up and before they knew it, there was a new empire-builder-conqueror-world-dominator, minting new God-kings and building even bigger holy cities. Continue Reading
Qualified Entry, Second pixelhose Writing Competition. Fiction Category.
By Douglas Scadding
The rain was coming down in torrents now. It was November; the leaves were all but gone from the trees. David awoke in his alley. The box he was sleeping under had finally soaked through.
“Get up. I have grand plans for us today.” Continue Reading
Qualified Entry, Second pixelhose Writing Competition. Fiction Category.
By Sarah Wallenfang
“Hurry up, Earl, the church is filling up fast,” Ruth huffed at her henpecked husband.
“The priest doesn’t start talkin’ until one last time I checked. We have plenty of time.”
“But you know the whole town’s going to turn out for this. It’s their little Annie. I don’t want to be stuck standing in the back.” Continue Reading
Qualified Entry, Second pixelhose Writing Competition. Nonfiction Category.
By Victoria B.
Unbeknownst to all, I learned to read. While the teacher was still droning away to my classmates about the letters of the alphabets, I had already been long acquainted with the solidarity that weaves written signs together in their infinite combinations and marvelous sounds. I read as if deranged, at first in hiding, and then, once it seemed to me that the normal amount of time to learn one’s letters had elapsed, freely for all to see. However, I was careful to conceal the delight and yearning that reading afforded me, frightened of further agitating my already wary teacher. Nonetheless, the feeble child had somehow already become a hungry soul. Continue Reading
Qualified Entry, Second pixelhose Writing Competition. Fiction Category.
By Renee’ Johnson
‘Persecute her!’ ‘Persecute her!’ The voices rose high into the dark night. The moon was hidden behind a cloak of clouds. I felt the heat encircle my legs, the occasional stench of alcohol from his breath. The faces were familiar. Faces that smiled and hands that gave friendly waves now had grim expressions and the same hands pounded the air in anger. It became hotter, crawling up my legs like a family of ants, but I was almost numb, shocked and happy that I stood for Jesus. My arms stretched above my head felt broken and separated from my body. The pain ran through my body over and over, and I tried to ignore it. Continue Reading
Qualified Entry, Second pixelhose Writing Competition. Fiction Category.
By Jasmine Cata
Greg watched horror films for as long as he could remember. He was nine now and was starting to develop a somewhat crazed obsession with the films and decided it was time to start little experiments of his own. Continue Reading
