Every week, our IndieInk Writing Challenge draws the most brilliant and imaginative writers who craft the most creative and interesting posts — and many of these submissions just knock the editors’ collective socks off. And so, the editorial staff decided to get together and select one submission weekly to feature as our “Editors’ Choice.”
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The door swung behind Sasha, pushing a cloud of cold air into the muggy afternoon. That had to be the worst thing about rejection–returning to the heat.
Every week, our IndieInk Writing Challenge draws the most brilliant and imaginative writers who craft the most creative and interesting posts — and many of these submissions just knock the editors’ collective socks off. And so, the editorial staff decided to get together and select one submission weekly to feature as our “Editors’ Choice.” Read more
“I’ve decided I’m going to quit smoking,” I said, rummaging in my bag for a lighter.
My best friend said nothing and waited for me to continue. Read more
Everyday in the lunch line, my stomach turns queasy and my palms sweat and my heart aches in anxiousness as I wait to face The Battle of the Cafeteria. My teacher, Mrs. Ranchero, pretends like she never sees it and I don’t know what else to do but pretend I’m invisible. That’s the hard part. Read more
“Missus! Missus! Chocolate!” Mohammad was a little old to be one of the boys running up and down the side of the road, asking the passing American Soldiers for chocolate, but there he was anyway, stealing pens that were on their sleeves, and running off to the little huts in the far off town as the women in burkas and the little girls in shawls walked off, “Mister, mister! Chocolate!” Read more
From Tara Roberts:
She hated making a mess. As a rule she went to great pains to avoid it. Typically clean up meant simply gathering spent casings, wiping down a blade, disposing of a garrote, the usual. This last job was going to be more complicated than that.
Even with all her experience, she couldn’t anticipate every scenario and this was one big fuck up. Nothing went as expected, from the mark not being alone, to a freak rain storm, to having to stay concealed far longer than was convenient. Read more
It began with one more piece of FaceBook Flair. I don’t know why I continue to scan the hundreds of these buttons that seem to be created daily by so many who have not nearly enough to do. I guess there is a gem every so often that amuses me or, more rarely, touches me with its accidental wisdom. A far more typical reaction on my part would be to scream silently at the poor grammar and misspellings. Yet, every few days I’ll spend a few minutes clicking through pages of them.
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When Emily gets home from practice after school, her father tells her,
“Your friend with the phone-sex-voice called.” She laughs, because it
is a ridiculous thing for a father and a high school teacher to say;
ridiculous, but not surprising. Since Emily was eleven, he has let her
read his Playboy, because the articles are “really good”; but Emily is
not allowed to go out with boys until she is sixteen — that wouldn’t
be appropriate. Read more
The memories have been rushing back to me.
His face that night when the family finally broke. When my Mom said “no more” and he had to choose between us and giving up drinking. He agreed but in hindsight he didn’t do that for him. He did it for us. Read more
Awesome!!! L-O-V-E-D it :) February 9, 1:00 pm by Carrie
Can't post on your blog, so hope you find this here. Really...February 6, 11:00 am by 
