Unspoken
View DetailsThe Winners!
Faucet . First Place in Unspoken Challenge.
(Note: These characters originate from a former short fiction piece of mine titled Grief Spiral. I was very eager to work with this trio again and elaborate on the aftermath of one pivotal moment. Hence, this bonus scene inspired by the 'Unspoken' challenge!)
By Erin Latham Shea3 years ago in Chapters
Maternal Instinct. Second Place in Unspoken Challenge.
You failed today, grandly and spectacularly. I watched you on that stage as they announced the election results, stood tall, pristine and stoic, the youngest and brightest button amongst a load of stuffed shirts. No other voice had been as honest, genuine, or well-meaning; no other campaign had been forged with such heart.
By Caroline Jane3 years ago in Fiction
The Last Conversation. Runner-Up in Unspoken Challenge.
Hey. I think the word but nothing comes out. I look into the tired, glassy eyes that watch me move into the room and sit. We both know there’s no more words, nothing to discuss, or admit, or uncover. The time for words has passed. We are almost to the end.
By Keeleigh White3 years ago in Humans
Between Father And Son. Runner-Up in Unspoken Challenge.
There was one person that Clifford hadn't anticipated on seeing. His Father, Benedict. The man that had screamed at him to get out of his house when he was sixteen. Right after he had come out to him. That he wasn't his child anymore. And that if Clifford ever stepped one foot inside his home, he would hurt him. In ways that Clifford wasn't entirely certain of.
By Raphael Fontenelle3 years ago in Fiction
The Boy, The Duck, and The Goose. Runner-Up in Unspoken Challenge.
He looks up like a reader interrupted mid-paragraph. The little duckling he had been shelling corn to runs off to its mother. A woman sits down next to him. Her face looks just as long as his, the void of loss in her life as palpable as his.
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction
Hush. Runner-Up in Unspoken Challenge.
Olivia trembled as she brought her knees to her chest and tried to make herself as small as possible. She lay on the floor in the dark and watched as dust floated down from the wooden slats above her, caught in the beam of light that leaked through the gap in her bedroom door. Her heart thundered, threatening to give away her position as she listened nervously.
By Sian N. Clutton3 years ago in Fiction
Unspoken Grey. Runner-Up in Unspoken Challenge.
A man hurries to the red postbox at the end of his road. He is late today and the woman is walking away, barely perceptible through opaque sheets of rain. Against the grey concrete and relentless downpour, the crimson umbrella identifies her, bobbing along further into the distance until the grey swallows her.
By Teresa Renton3 years ago in Fiction
