results of The Deity Prose Contest were recently announced. Here featured are the winners and some of their works. Go ahead and show them some love
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Given No QuarterIt was the perfect day for an outdoor potluck – except for all the sweat pouring down his back. Remy regretted his choice of clothing; a full captain’s coat was not the most appropriate garb for this weather. He wiped away the sweat pooling under his eyepatch and sighed, fanning himself with his feathered hat. The nostalgia of the past had driven him to want to pull this old uniform on again one more time. The summer heat assaulted his body and he licked his cracked lips.
He spotted his friend’s kid – Evan – putting the final touches on a stand sporting a big yellow umbrella. The condensation slipped down the pitcher of lemonade and Remy’s mouth watered.
The ex-pirate wandered over, and sighed with relief as he leaned down into the circle of shade. It was nice to see the kids learning how to hustle and earn their own money. He grinned.
“One glass please!” Remy beamed, the sweat running down his face faster than ever.
The Last One“What do you mean I can only get one wish? Your whole job is granting wishes!”
“I’m sorry dearie,” the elderly spirit wheezed, “but I’m set on enjoying my retirement. This will be my last wish, so try to make it the best one you can possibly imagine.”
Gwen grated her teeth. She immediately found herself regretting ever asking Dev if she could browse his room of second-rate sorcery and ineptly enchanted items. This was bullshit.
She thought about what she wanted most in the world. How could she possibly make it the best wish with all this pressure?
“Well?” The spirit hacked out a ball of glowing phlegm, splattering the table in ectoplasmic glory.
She had always wanted the power to crush her enemies. It was so frustrating to be beaten over and over. For once – just once – Gwen wanted to come out on top. Her competitors were growing too numerous and what she really wished for was the strength to knock th
Stars“I won’t have you dressing like a trollop, Sarah. Get rid of these.” Her mother gestured at the garbage bag full of the offending clothing.
“God, mom! You’re so freaking unfair!” The teen’s voice rose as she stormed out of the house, taking the bag with her.
She pulled out her phone and typed a hasty text to her best friend: emergency! meet me @ the tunnel rite nao k?
Hamid raced there and he found her sitting against the wall.
“My clothes. You’re gonna keep them at your house for now, okay? My mom wanted me to throw them out. Yeah right! Doesn’t she even look at her credit card statements? Oh my fuck.”
“Can’t you just, like, keep them here?”
“No way! There are bugs and stuff. Just help me out. Please?”
“All right, but you’ll owe me!”
After Hamid returned home, he shoved the bag into his closet before he sat down
SoupShe knows the soup is not enough for the four of them.
She’s lucky enough to pass by the market at closing time and get the last, ugly-looking, unsold vegetable at a good price – she knows how important is for her children to get a healthy meal, even if it’s more expensive than feeding them with high-fat, high-sugar, low quality food.
She’s lucky enough to get some left over from one of her employers, even if it hurts her pride – she knows that growing children need meat too. She’s a master in recycling a roasted chicken: a good broth or, if she’s able to scrape enough meat, a meat loaf or some patties.
She’s lucky her children aren’t fussy eaters, not as much as another employer’s ones. She’s thankful for that and sometimes she wonders if they actually understand all her efforts to properly feed them.
Yet, all those musing didn’t increase the amount of soup.
She sighs as she dips the ladle in the pot: two spoonful
A blueberry muffin storyOnce upon a time there was a king who was so greedy that he put taxes on everything: the birthday cake’s tax, the new toy’s tax, you even had to pay a tax for sneezing or using the toilet! With all those taxes to pay, the people in his country weren’t happy at all, and the worst was that the king just keeps the gold to himself and didn’t use it to help his people. Do you know Prince John from “Robin Hood”? Yes? Well, he was just as greedy as him. But, unlike Prince John, he had a daughter.
The Princess was a very kind and generous girl who was so sad knowing how greedy her father was: everyday she heard how unhappier and poorer the people were!
So, one day she told the king he should lower the taxes and use the gold for good deeds.
The king wanted to say “Never!”, but he replied: «If someone will be able to hit with an arrow the apple I’ll throw from my window on a moonless night, then I’ll do as you wish».
HairIt seemed like her hair was the last part of her to fully mature. She had finally stopped dyeing it late into her college career, and eventually let it curl out like it did naturally – but that was one funeral, two degrees, one marriage, and six children later.
She sat on the beach reminiscing about this, whilst her husband prepared the children’s mid-day snack. ‘That should be me,’ she mused to herself, ‘I’m the parent with a natural hair color’. She thought this made her more mature, stopping her hair-dying back in college while her husband still dyed his hair now to hide his early graying.
Yet, she made no attempt at moving towards the house where her family was in slight chaos. Instead, she threw her head back, natural curls sliding down her neck and breezing onto her shoulders.
On her left shoulder was a tattoo that read ‘strength’ in Japanese. She had gotten it at the same time she stopped dyeing her hair, in honor of her moth
Skin by Dan Leveille