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Entries from Oct 18 – Oct 25, 2026. Voting closes Sun Nov 01, 2026 4:00 am.

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A rusty key sat by a box.
Mia took it.
A tiny cat blinked as gold coins fell out.
Mia grinned and drew it all on canvas
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You could leave: pass into obscurity by my old garden gate, a rusty key in your palm. I'd stare, as you become darkness, a myriad stars to capture you. I would miss you. In my studio, in my garden, I'd paint you over and over, once you'd left. I'd paint a memory of you. I'd try to capture your beautiful soul in canvas.
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All truly wise thoughts have been thought already thousands of times; but to make them truly ours, we must think them over again honestly, till they take root in our personal experience.
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe