Neolomicro
View DetailsThe Winners!
Excalcifate. First Place in the Neolomicro Challenge.
You're trying not to push her too hard. In some ways Amber has experienced more in her first twelve years than you did in your first twenty. There's no question in your mind that taking her in is the right thing to do. Still, you wish she would give you some indication of what she's feeling.
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Fiction
Livelocity. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
My husband of 52 years snores lightly in his hospital bed, wincing occasionally from the fall that landed him here. I dab a white washcloth in the ice bucket on the little wheeled stand separating him from the blinking lights and beeping monitors and his wheelchair. The cold to his temples makes him groan. Perhaps he’s dreaming and it’s not the pain. I kick off my shoes and climb into the mechanical bed, folding myself around him like a spoon. Don’t die, please, I whisper.
By Lacy Loar-Gruenler3 years ago in Fiction
jillknife. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
"I'm not going to move on this." The senator was adamant. Her aide sighed, knowing how stubborn she could be about these things. He loved working for her as she was a woman of principle, strong and resolute. But he couldn't help but think of her as a tree in a storm - only the ones who bend survive: the ones with the thickest trunks that are unable to respond to the bullying shove of the wind will not live to fight another day. They become splintered and shafted and rot down to a stump.
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
Sociolassus. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
Freedom. She almost had it. She waved to the last of the partygoers as they departed. The disappearing headlights served as twin lighthouses in the night, assuring her that the farther they got, the farther she was from the rocky shore of social obligations.
By Stephanie Hoogstad3 years ago in Fiction
A Wofflessgilipollas By Any Other Name… Is Still A Wofflessgilipollas . Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
He wasn’t bad to look at if you oozed boredom like Mrs. J. Sanchez did most weekdays. As gardeners went, Joaquin’s rates were modest, $18.95/hr. He worked speedily, so his clientele throughout Altamonte Springs, Orlando flourished. Retirement villages mostly, but a few homeowners like Mrs. S with service needs, channeling their aburrimiento (boredom) into pristine gardens.
By The Dani Writer3 years ago in Fiction
The Obstultancy of Unearned Wealth. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
Standing porcine at the Soho gallery’s opening night, Burton was free with his opinions. Although he knew little about art. And had never heard of this season’s fresh, must-see talent. He was a heavy man, marked with a drunk’s rosacea. When he talked, which was most of the time, he droned with monotonic, unintelligent certainty - sucking the light out of the r00m like a mindless black hole.
By Pitt Griffin3 years ago in Fiction
Stepprehension. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
It's the middle of the night, but for you, time is frozen. Your midnight snack run downstairs isn't uncommon, but your current situation certainly is. Your stomach is no longer concerned with tangible things like leftover pizza and fries, and it instead contemplating the very concept of gravity itself as it drops, seemingly far beneath the floor.
By Stephen Walasavage3 years ago in Fiction
Felincense. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
It has been said that cats offer protection in the spiritual realm. I think of this as I search one last time for my cat Jaya, who’s been lost for 28 days. My lip is chewed raw, as I try not to think about moving to a new home abroad without him.
By Kali Mailhot3 years ago in Fiction
Liminophilia. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
With an elegant flourish, Sylvia placed her signature on the last page of the document. She capped her Watermark pen, set it on the desk and swiveled her chair to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window of her executive office. Dusk was setting in but she wouldn’t leave yet. She swiveled back around and unlocked the bottom drawer of the desk, pulling out a glass and a bottle of single-malt Macallan scotch.
By Kate Kastelberg 3 years ago in Fiction
Agonventis. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
The Wielder needed one last ingredient for her potion. A decade ago, when the Cradle’s Plague had swept the kingdom, it had been so common, she could scrape it off nearly any wind. She knew it was often found around battlefields, but the kingdom wasn’t currently at war.
By THE SPEAR SISTERS3 years ago in Fiction
Chromasomniō. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
His eyes... I can't quite capture them. Hooked under heavy lids, sleep shadows of viridian and phthalo green. A wash of ultramarine. An easy smile creases his face so the sunlight catches; gold, chartreuse, and peridot join hands to dance circles around a pitch pupil.
By Jenna Sedi3 years ago in Fiction
Mourningreed. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
It couldn’t be said he wasn’t cold yet. Indeed, the morgue kept him chilled, but draped in colorful Indian quilts, a vibrant dichotomy that belied the stillness of him. My breath shuttered. We had shared a milkshake just the evening before. We both knew his journey was coming to a close. But you’re never prepared. My soul leaked, watering my vision. I took two steps and kissed him one last time on the forehead. Godspeed thy journey, father. The hardest part here is over.
By Catherine Brooks3 years ago in Fiction
Repitrage. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
Another test. I won't be the one taking the test and even so the prospect is exhausting. I scan the questions. Seriously, who writes these? And question three! None of those multiple choice options are even correct! Oh, there’s a note from the department chair:
By D.K. Shepard3 years ago in Fiction
Bryolic. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
The forest is never silent, even at dusk. Leaves rustle, peepers sing in the distance, the creek trickles peacefully. The sounds, though, are dampened by the thick moss that coats the forest. It has spread like a blanket, like a virus, across the trees and the rocks and the earth.
By Alana S. Leonard3 years ago in Fiction
Culpabumble. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
"Colin, can you come in here please?" Three months in the office, and Jared was still getting my name wrong, despite sitting three meters away from me, separated by the brushed glass wall obscuring his lower half. I found that feature of the wall comforting. Jared was a creep. He peered out from his leadership nook like a meerkat.
By Conor Darrall3 years ago in Fiction
