Okay folks. So I’m gonna chalk up our supremely low submission rate to the following three reasons:
1) You were all attacked by flying monkeys that stole your typewriters/laptops/computers so you couldn’t write.
2) The season change is getting you down and you couldn’t do anything but eat french fries and watch old movies.
3) You were so overwhelmed with the idea that this contest is FREE and the prizes are so spectacular that you were unable to write and submit.
Mark and I have graciously decided to extend the contest submission deadline for ONE MORE WEEK!
SUBMISSION DEADLINE: Friday, September 20th, 2013 @ 11:59pm.
Here’s the original contest details post, please read it!
Please submit the same way:
…by putting your story into the comment section of THIS POST.
And, don’t forget to subscribe to my blog by doing the following:
*please note* this subscribe button is on the main page of my blog – it’s not part of the post but part of the homepage – below my books!
Alrighty, then. Let’s get to it, shall we? Shall you?
VANESSA SHIELDS 
Accidentally posted in the previous section then noticed the specification to post submissions on THIS post so I’m posting again just in case.
Name: Mike LeClair
Title: Captured
Word Count: 200
I’m walking in the thick of the rain towards the bar where the distress call came from. Seven tenants in the apartments above are missing, all female. The bar owner is currently being held for questioning for assault and an alleged association with the underground sex trade.
Morgan, a once proud city that lost all hope after the assassination of its war hero mayor and the corruption that followed his cremation.
I light my second cigarette under the angled brim of my hat as rain pelts on and around me while I make my way past gutter overflowing, then past the green neon that plays off the reflective yellow tape around the entrance. The 911 call came from a friend of one of the missing girls and she sits in a corner booth in the dim bar with two policemen standing by her, one waving an SLR in an anxious reporters face, warning him. Although advised, the reporter pulls a Polaroid from holster, the flash creating uproar between him and the officers. While grabbed and escorted outside he repeatedly asks, “What happened to your face?” Further, almost outside he’s yelling, “Lady, what happened to your face?” His Polaroid flashes again.
LikeLike
THanks, Mike! We got it! Good luck!
LikeLike