You guys looted it, he spat. We were weak then.
No, said I, I am Serbian. Where the US bombed your embassy.
A cuckoo sang over Yuanming yuan.

Dirt clung to their fingernails and wouldn't wash off; still they tunneled each day without fail, through clumps of soil and crowds men.

Splintered chopsticks cracked the flesh; it hissed and bled grease and reused oil. And there it died on his plate.

As the old woman from Gaomiaocun sat in the spring sun looking into the baby's blue eyes, she realized that events of 50 years were both profound & an exercise in futility.

Twitter entry from @IesGlobal:

A budding Beijinger belatedly arrives, boisterous and bedazzled, into a busily bustling Beijing; he's Bagou bound. Blimey...

First of three from Wall Street Journal editor Carlos Tejada (@CRTejada on Twitter):

Audi A6, fender nudging my bike? Keying is inevitable, comrade, like your mistress's photos on Weibo.

And the third of three from Wall Street Journal editor Carlos Tejada (@CRTejada on Twitter):

February explosions. Fireworks, and gutter oil.

TheBeijinger.com user Helga Tiger:

I walk past Lao She’s memorial, Mei Lanfang’s house, Qi Baishi’s museum. Everyone has lived here some time or other. Nobody dies in Beijing.

http://www.thebeijinger.com/blog/2013/02/21/stranger-short-fiction-enter-our-story-contest#comment-605540

TheBeijinger.com user orangeleg:

A spaceship from the future lands in Beijing. Inside is someone who looks Chinese. But he speaks with no words and proffers only one message before he dies: "Less more need..."

http://www.thebeijinger.com/blog/2013/02/21/stranger-short-fiction-enter-our-story-contest#comment-605633

Weibo user @LuHai_Liang (Disclosure: Luhai is currently interning at the Beijinger, so he won't be winning this contest!):

An Englishman, Irishman and Scotsman walk into a bar. Then a Welshman hurriedly runs in and says stop the joke, you've forgotten me! The rest of the participants glare at him before all involved dissolve into a giant, quivering question mark.

From Not There's Jonathan Heeter (@Jonathan_Heeter on Twitter):

Absinthe, Korean Girlz, Broken Sandals, guitar, old Yugongyishan, Makisupa Policeman. Good times in pre Olympic Beijing.

Meri Joswiak emailed us this entry:

The 104 chugged, exhaled to a steamy halt in front of me. I'll just walk. So what if I'm in heels; I'd have to cross the footbridge anyway.

Second of three from Weibo user @林卓枢:

Hong kong. 10am. Coffee shop. Suits. Construction. Calming tea. Marc Jacobs. Old hands. Hair gel. Slumping shoulders. One smile. Chinese man.

Weibo user @ginger_煎饺 sent us this:

In 2012 I moved into hutong, and then a rat, a dog, two squirrels, and a family of bugs moved in with me, most of them uninvited. Now that the drum tower area is going to be demolished I feel sad. It was the quietest and happiest days of my life.

Eggs hit the wok and explode into yellows and whites, roadside breakfast outside the abortion clinic.