The Writer's Workout

Bursting Free by Michelle Dornish First Place Why can’t they see beyond this mask? I sit at the dinner table, poking my limp green beans with my fork. My body seems to be vibrating in my skin, the skin which has never felt totally comfortable –or right. I am focused on my plate because my eyes are tired from holding back tears. I know if I meet my mother’s eyes, it will all come pouring out of me. I do not want to flood her with my truth. I want to calmly speak the words.

She Who Had Been Painted by Brian Lockwood Second Place Sunrise had come, but Edrick had already painted enough of those in his opinion. In fact, he didn’t even notice the shades of color shining over the landscape beyond his window. He loaded another two jars of paint into his satchel without giving the view a passing glance. The pack was rather full, but he wasn’t sure what supplies he’d need for the project. After all, he’d never painted a dragon up close. He referred to

Double Hashbrowns, Plain by Klaus Turk Third Place The paprikash recipe called for diced tomato, so Cheryl pulled the knife from the corpse's eye. Blood waterfalled to the floor. Frowning, she nudged the body over so that the floor by the counter didn't get slippery. She washed the knife off in the sink, scrubbing until her sponge turned from yellow to crimson to pink and back to yellow again. She tossed the sponge. With her implements clean, Cheryl began dicing. The medita

We love Fiction Potluck because the submissions are so much fun! Here are July's Fiction Potluck Finalists for the do it scared challenge. Look for the Finalist badge across social media to connect with these authors. July Finalists Avirupa Basu Avirupa Basu is an emerging writer drawn to the quiet complexities of identity, relationships, memory, and the many joys of being alive. Her work finds beauty and meaning in ordinary moments, intimate encounters, and the fleeting deta

What the Body Refuses by Aneisha Gupta First Place The first time my throat tightened at the temple, I thought it was God. I was ten years old, standing barefoot on the cool stone floor of our local Hindu temple, waiting for my offerings, waiting for my prashad. As far back as I can remember, my birthdays always began with prayers at the temple alongside my family. Incense curled toward the ceiling, blurring the golden edges of the deities. The priest’s voice rose and fell

Nail Biter by Jade Josie Second Place My cheeks feel warm buried in the crook of my elbow. I am something dead to the world, bloated and still. My scrawny limbs bend and spread across my desk as my mind floats anywhere else but here. I feel more comfortable than I ever could be in my bed, even in all of the clattering noise before first period. A chirping voice and a tap to my shoulder drags me from my haze. “Hi!” A hand waves in front of my face, making the pale school li

She's Back by Claire Beaver Third Place 1. On her hands and knees, loose pieces of grout piercing her skin between tiles, Avery scrubbed. The sponge was chunky with bits of vomit and fingernails intended to land in the toilet, but she didn’t stop until the splattered bits were gone. Avery couldn’t remember the last time she had thrown up, really thrown up. Maybe in college after a night of binge drinking with her sister; May knew how to drink. Avery pulled herself up by the