Peyton Fleek

“We Learn From Failure ” by Peyton Fleek

2045 ADIn the Science wing of Issaquah High School, massive bright green palm fronds reach up fifty feet above the students. The sounds of plush, moist droplets trickle down the vines, and plop onto the waxy, climbing philodendron. Several Toucans squawk in the trees overhead and deep croakes escape the throats of unseen toads. The large bamboo chime softly beats together letting the students know their time is up, all physics tests should be turned into the collection bin on Mr. Evans desk. Not one student needed even a five minute war...

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“Salle des États” by Peyton Fleek

Submitted to Contest #242

I know what you’re thinking. Really? Mona Lisa? Again? Why is she even famous? I get it. People- critics, men, women, kids, celebrities, politicians- have been asking these questions for centuries. Who is she? What is she feeling? That’s not really the point of my story today, nor will I be answering any of your long sought after answers. However, I think if you will just hear me out you’ll find my account rather frivolous. It began when the final guard locked the doors this evening. The paintings waking up, as we subjects like to call ...

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“A Dish Fit For The Gods” by Peyton Fleek

Submitted to Contest #241

My leg bounces up and down, the tic of a nervous person. I will my leg to stop. In replacement I begin biting my nails. I’ve been sitting at the kitchen counter repeating these nervous tics for about an hour - leg bouncing, nail biting, finger tapping - forcing myself to read this play. I begin spinning my wedding band around my finger. I check the clock. 4:15 PM. I look down at my page and reread the paragraph… “Let's be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.. . . And, gentle friends,Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;Let's carve...

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“What’s In The Box?” by Peyton Fleek

Submitted to Contest #238

I can count the number of times I’ve had a gun pointed to my head. This is my eighth occurrence since I started this trade five months ago. It’s not necessarily a fatal business, but people are desperate and you know that old saying about desperate times and desperate measures.  I remember the first time it happened, it was a sweaty, hot August night up in the Bronx. I just finished my first delivery. When I got back to my truck a cold piece of metal met my temple. My brother, being the man who got me the job, felt it his responsibili...

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“Letting Go” by Peyton Fleek

Submitted to Contest #237

Some of us think holding on makes us strong, but sometimes it is letting go. I have found this quote to become somewhat of a life motto for me. I discovered it during a breakup, but now as I ride this wave I realize it is helpful even in these moments. My hands must release their grip on my surfboard. I am afraid to let go, I am afraid my legs won’t hold me steady. It is good to let go. I stand up cautiously, keeping a generous bend in my knees, my stomach muscles squeezing. In letting go I find new strength.  I bring my board back to t...

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“Distracted” by Peyton Fleek

Submitted to Contest #235

My feet pound into the ground and sweat trickles down my face and my neck. A smile creeps across my lips as I begin mile five. My runner’s high is kicking in, my body feels charged, not tired. I can feel the redness in my cheeks, my fingers begin to tingle, my knees feel like they have springs in them, I can literally feel joy in my feet spreading to all ten toes.There isn’t a cloud in sight and the sun is piercing my back in the best possible way. The first run of spring is easily the most glorious one every year. By the time summer hits I’...

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