An important question was answered on one cool, mid-autumn morning.
A young boy, face full of pimples, asked a girl, mouth full of braces: “Who do you think is more ugly? Me or you?”
To which the girl replied, “You, for even thinking that this makes me ugly at all.”
Connor Williams has no idea what to write for a bio, but hopes you all have a wonderful May.
Bring me all the pretty things that forgot to develop a personality.
Bring them to me and I will build myself an army.
They will hover over the masses,
and whisper like sirens in the night:
This is what you want to be.
You’ll never be good enough.
Matilda Harjunpää has a complicated relationship with social media.
She clamps around me, squeezing me so that my breath comes short. Pulling tighter, she shapes me so that I’m nearly unrecognizable. She holds me upright, willing me to walk with a dignity I don’t feel. She makes me just like every other woman here.
She is my Iron Maiden.
Rebecca Holcomb is a stay-at-home mom by day and a freelance writer by night. She lives with her husband and three daughters in Central Florida.
The teacher briefly leaves the room. Class discussion erupts.
Mark: “You’re so ugly.”
Lucy: “I know.”
Everyone laughs. Feeling humiliated, Lucy quickly smiles, hoping that the sudden twist of her lips will prevent a deluge of tears. Teacher returns. Class once again silent, although Lucy can still hear that laughter.
Linda Nathaniel is a teacher from Sydney, Australia, who has had a play go from page to stage and poems published around the globe.
“You look terrific,” she told him. “Fantastic, even.”
“You know,” he said, “I *feel* fantastic. Maybe even marvelous!”
“Whoa, hold on. I don’t know about marvelous… Fantastic is one thing. Marvelous is something else entirely.”
“Oh.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Well how about… wonderful?”
“Sure, I’ll give you wonderful.”
This story was based on the prompt “fantastic” at TypeTrigger.
“Do come in!” offered Gerald Bradge. “I have some tea on.”
Gerald was a softhearted older gentleman who had unfortunately grown a dark, heavy set of down-turned eyebrows, which had significantly damaged his reputation.
He had his pride, but I’d brought my clippers and chloroform this time.
He needed me.
This story is based on a title suggested by @hippodragon9.