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Write a story about an underdog, or somebody making a comeback.

Posted in Character on Jun 21, 2024

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✍️ 41 stories

Psst...(Jill killed Jack)

Shortlisted for Contest #256 ⭐️

“I very much need some socks pretty please with sugar on top.” This was the text that I sent to my estranged ex-wife. The one who wanted to drag me out to the wilderness under the guise of talking about financing our first childs’ entrance into college. I knew that she was old fashioned and wanted to push me from a hill. Just like Fellini. So my last request was not very sinister. I mean, even death row inmates should get some free laundry or a meal. Maybe even a prayer? I looked into the pantry of my rental and decided there ...

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Tenise

Submitted to Contest #256

Time of contact: 15:05:01Impact Force: 6000 NewtonsServe speed: 135mphDistance travelled: 25.5mAngle: 60 degrees to horizontalVelocity: 82m/sRequired service return response: Ten paces left moving forward 30 degrees, commence swing at 15:05:03, apply 5500 newtons of pressure in a topspin forehand shot with an upward trajectory of 35 degrees to the horizontal.That’s what the voice of the AI vocoder instructs inside me head, for the umpteenth time this session, an’ who am I ta argue? It’s not like I’m important. Not like I was ever a champ, mu...

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Fair Lady Charity

Submitted to Contest #256

Fair Lady Charity Carlton gawked at Riley. Riley gawked at Carlton. Then they couldn't help bursting out in laughter.“Did you see that fool running around like a banshee screeching with his head afire?” Sir Carlton guffawed. “Then making a beeline to the exit with his bigwig still steaming once the flaming baton twirler doused him with the pail of water?” Sir Riley chortled. “Never witnessed anything quite so hilarious!” His good friend still snickering choked out.“How did his pencil neck ever hold up that enormous fancy wig?” Riley tried to...

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Giggles the Heroic Donkey, Underdog of the Mystical Coast

Submitted to Contest #256

Years later, Giggles the little donkey still remembered the first big challenge she won, against the coyotes stalking her friend, Huckleberry, the baby elk calf.In that contest between donkey and coyotes, the donkey's unexpected skills and natural gifts surprised the coyotes, who thought they were clever.It was 1898 in the rainforest wilderness of the Mystical Coast, where emerald mountains covered by towering fir trees met the vast ocean reaching to the horizons.Appearing to be an underdog, with her plain, grey hair, stubby legs, and tall, ...

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Duck!

Submitted to Contest #256

“Here comes the fastball. It’s coming right for my head! Duck! DUCK! DUCK DAMMIT! DUCK!”Jesse Brock bolted up from his sleep. His silk pyjamas were soaked clean through. He was sweating even more than usual tonight.But the nightmare was still the same. It was always the same.His head dropped to his chest as he cupped his face with his large hands and started to cry.“You’ll never be able to do this,” his inner voice told him. “NEVER! It’s over.”Jesse tried to go back to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, the baseballs were screaming to...

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A Runner’s Story

Submitted to Contest #256

Out of habit, I awaken every day with my running clothes laid out at the foot of my bed. I pull them on first thing before I’m fully awake. My eyes are still crusted with gunk while my body lunges through the dark, stumbling down three flights of stairs, the handrail my savior as I lurch from side to side. On the final stair I sit to pull on each shoe. The big gray door has one slender window through which I peer as I double-knot the shoelaces.  And stretch against the stair railing. S-t-r-e-t-c-h. For two months of the year, the window...

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Angels in the Midcourt

Submitted to Contest #256

‘Angels in the Midcourt’: the former stars of the Baltimore Angels on underdogs, life after sports, and what it means to be a teamBy Avery S. PierceJune 27, 2024 I have never been on a louder set than the one I am on today. I can hear them from down the hall as I approach the studio, and the laughter and chatter seem to be contagious. The camera crew and technicians are gathered in groups as they test the lighting and sound, each of them craning their necks every few moments as they attempt to catch a glimpse of one of the many legends aroun...

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Team Building

Submitted to Contest #256

Towards the end of a long work day my phone pinged a text message; “Bob. Stop by my office before leaving.”  “Yes!” I punched the air then strode from my bullpen cubicle to the Director of Marketing's glass-walled office. Keeping his phone at his ear, the Big Man beamed a welcoming smile and motioned toward a chair in front of his desk. I walked in and sat as he concluded the call. We indulged in a minute of everyday chitchat. He praised my work and asked me to say hello to my wife Laura for him. Then, he looked down reflexively drumm...

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The Pitch

Submitted to Contest #256

Jessie buttoned the old jersey, its fabric soft against her skin. The shirt belonged to her father, and the memory of that horrible day sent a tear sliding down her cheek.  “Jess, you ready, baby girl?” Carrie’s voice snapped her to attention. “Yes, Mama, be right down.” She grabbed her faded Cardinals hat from the dresser and bolted from her bedroom and down the stairs. Randall smiled as she entered the living room. “You look like a real girl ballplayer, Jessie.” “That’s good, exactly what I’m hoping to be.” Jessie patted her younger b...

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Pitched In

Submitted to Contest #256

   Brady’s mom never missed a sign-up, much to his dismay. Another soccer season loomed over his ten-year old head, as he laced up his cleats and secured two shinguards neatly into place.      The enthusiasm that five-year old Brady brought to the game had fizzled, sputtered, and ultimately gone out over the years, like a sparkler at the end of the thin metal stick inching closer to tender grasping fingers. It had been a fun game back then, with giggling teammates and practice sessions filled with...

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KEEP OFF THE GRASS

Submitted to Contest #256

Lola doesn’t particularly like him- her father, that is, but says she’s learning to tolerate him. He doesn’t particularly like her either, and he learned to accept her. Accept all the traces of her mother in her, from the stout frame flinching at any conciliatory gesture of affection, to the pinched looks and angry sighs whenever he emerges from the depths of his room, sleeping off his early shift. Today is a special day for Gerald. Wimbledon is in the works – three weeks away, and he is in the final stretch of straightening out the gro...

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White Privilege

Submitted to Contest #256

Every game felt like a symphony to eighteen-year-old Kelvin White. The chirp of athletic shoes on the parquet floor. The rhythmic drumming of a basketball pounding wood, building tension as he planned his approach to the hoop, surrounded by a cacophony of whistles, whoops and thunderous applause inside the Lower Merion High School Gymnasium outside Philadelphia where, in this orchestration, Kelvin was the conductor, leading the players down the court, directing the drive with a pass here, a pick there, finishing off with a cymbal-like crash ...

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Scratch Your Back

Submitted to Contest #256

I have heard people say that crying is therapeutic.  Good for your soul.  It releases endorphins or hormones to help your body cope with stress and emotions.  Part of the grieving process. Those people are morons.  For a seventh grade young man, like me, to cry in an eighth grade class even for an instant was not therapeutic.  It was not good for my soul.  The only thing it released was loud snickering by the eighth grade boys and, worse, sympathetic eyes from the eighth grade girls.  Part of the humiliatio...

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Building confidence

Submitted to Contest #256

The lights from Jeff’s garage are a beacon in the night to the errand bovine roaming the pitch-black pastures surrounding his rural home in Johnson County, Texas. Staccato sounds of an impact wrench spill out in the dark vast emptiness startling a curious coyote camouflaged by a patch of prickly pear cactus and tall dry grass. Curses echo into the night, as exhaustion battles an ever-ending desire to fulfill a dream he has had since youth, and his first time seeing a drag car fly by at the local track. He was hooked instantly, while other yo...

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The 497th Santa

Submitted to Contest #256

Mabel patted her hair, fingered underneath the back, then switched the hairdryer off and set it down on the dresser. Silence rushed in. She put one hand on the wall to steady herself and bent over to turn off the mains before unplugging the gadget. She would let it cool down before putting it back in the drawer later today.When she stood up, she was eye level with one of the teddies perched on the long shelf above her daughter’s bed. She tried to read some message in those glass amber eyes, felt she might get some insight, maybe one word to ...

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