Hazel Ide

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2023

Stories (14)

14 Stories

1165 karma pts

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“Luso Style” by Hazel Ide

Submitted to Contest #249

I remember the feeling of slow-motion horror as I watched her shopping cart collide with mine. The metal-on-metal clang reverberated into my hands, sending a nerve-pulsing buzz up my fingertips into my shoulders, jarring my head back in surprise. The shopping cart's cumbersome size locked me in between that old 'Tuga and the cereal aisle.She sneered, a surprisingly intimidating feat considering she's all of five feet, but the memory of the finger-pointing is what brought me back to reality.I adjust the cold bag of peas on my face, groaning a...

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“Five Days to Bliss” by Hazel Ide

Submitted to Contest #247

The crickets chirped in unison, their lively crescendo fleeing the darkened forest, making me wonder, not for the first time this week, if this were the life I'd have chosen all along had I known this place existed. The heavy thud of a boot propping up on the cooler beside me doesn't detract from the beauty of the dark, whispering trees. Five days. It's been five days, and already I'm listening more closely, attuned to and relishing every sound, every symphony of the universe. Magpie's heavy boots, the glug glug of the wine sh...

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“Look Left” by Hazel Ide

Submitted to Contest #246

“You heard about the asteroid, right?”“Hmm…?” It takes a second for my wife's words to register, but when they sink in, I drag my attention up from my mindless scrolling on my phone. “What asteroid?”“It’s supposedly three times the size of Mount Everest.” She slumps onto the couch, her glass of wine filled to the brim, sloshing precariously.“And? Is it going to hit Earth and kill us all?” I muse.She rolls her eyes, pulling up her phone. "Most of the comments are people saying things like, 'Let it come.'”"That's stupid."She shrugs, and we go ...

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“(Non)sensical Rant as an Ode to the Human Condition” by Hazel Ide

Submitted to Contest #240

There is no difference between us and nature, no end between time and space, and we understand reality to be nothing more than a magic show.He held up a mug and asked if the mug was really a mug. Though it had been many days of objective questioning—Is this a pen or an arrow? Is this knife a weapon or a tool? Is this fish rotten or a delicacy?—this was the beginning, when the allegorical scene began to realign, and we all got swept away in the paradox of understanding that there's no such thing as reality if reality is defined as the state o...

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“Enjoy the Silence” by Hazel Ide

Submitted to Contest #238

"Do they really expect us to climb that?" Karen—Kara, or maybe it's Erin?—asks, arms folded, staring up at the monstrous tree pegged with foot holds leading up to the timberline.I follow her gaze, tracing the series of ropes and wooden steps scattering the trunks and branches high into the sky. We're only at the first course; I think they said the ropes elevated 25 feet at the start, 50 toward the end.I shrug, unable to answer. Or unwilling. I guess it depends on your point of view.You see, there's a difference between being at a silent retr...

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“La-Z-Boy” by Hazel Ide

Submitted to Contest #235

Gemma's dramatic wails echo down the hallway, the tinny sound carrying like a sharpened porcupine quill, direct and unwelcome. Avery sighs, glancing briefly toward the hall where his wife cries—with the same emotional gusto as when her pick on The Bachelor doesn't win, so there's no telling how upset she actually is—then back to the credit card bill on the table.He pours a finger of scotch over ice, sinking his weary self into the old leather wingback in the darkened den. The contrast of the papers stacked on the low ma...

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“Windfall” by Hazel Ide

Submitted to Contest #233

I can't tear my eyes away as the bartender fills up the glass. For such a simple task, it's entrancing. Ice. A little bourbon. Some bitters. A splash of fernet, a little twist just for me, my mouth watering as she rubs an orange peel along the rim before sliding it over.My hand trembles as I reach for the drink, but I only indulge in a small sip. It's sweet and warm. Someone shoves my shoulder, a broad-shouldered man reeking of weed and beer, and I nearly spill. He coughs hysterically, jostling me as his large body shakes, that wet...

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“Pen Thief” by Hazel Ide

Submitted to Contest #230

I liked to think other people viewed the six of us as Knights at the Round Table—if knights wielded keyboards, notebooks, and expansive imaginations in favor of swords and metal armor. My armor couldn't be seen by the naked eye. It lived, breathed, and pulsed beneath my skin, a sparkling amalgamation of cosmic horror, fantasy, romance, and science fiction, unable to take any one single form, instead a constantly shifting, living thing I fed upon with each written word.I glance at the others, my five knights, as they lau...

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“Don't Say It.” by Hazel Ide

Submitted to Contest #226

"It kinda looks like—""Don't say it." Kenny nods solemnly, recrossing his long legs in the rusted lawn chair. The skinny blue and white plastic spindles weaving the chair seat have long since loosened and torn. His ass hangs out of half of it, but it doesn't bother him any. I watch him try to change the subject in his brain, can physically see the wheels turning, his lips twisting from one side to the other. It doesn't work, though, so he readjusts in his chair and tries again, "I'm just saying—""Don'...

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“Gertrude Inn” by Hazel Ide

Submitted to Contest #225

The span of my childhood could be separated into two categories: Knowing and Not-knowing.In fact, everyone in my family, even the adults, could split similarly: those who knew and those who didn’t.Regardless of which category you fell into, everyone knew Grandma had certain… proclivities. It was an unspoken thing, yet you felt how heavily it threaded into every conversation and side-comment at family gatherings. No one really talked about it, not outright, but it was always there, lingering between the lines. <...

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“Omelets 101” by Hazel Ide

Submitted to Contest #223

"Umm, is Mrs. Mariere in?"The boy's voice betrays him, squeaking in that pre-pubescent way despite his likely eighteen or nineteen years of age. His mispronunciation of my name doesn't bother me; most freshmen at this tiny liberal arts college take a while to acclimate to addressing adults who aren't their parents or teachers they've known since kindergarten."Mrs. Mariere—" my assistant correctly enunciates, with a nice, long rolling R, "is on a call. As Dean, she’s a busy woman. Is there something I can help you with?"<...

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“Damn the Lizard Patriarchy” by Hazel Ide

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

CW: Off-page mentions of suicide and sexual assault.When I was young, I fell in love with a girl. Her heavy black Doc Marten boots, climbing out of her boyfriend's shitty old sedan, caught my eye as I stumbled off the school bus, my friend slamming into me from behind. I watched her smile and laugh, dumbstruck, before I was shouldered out of the way by other students, anxious to flee the tall yellow monstrosity behind me, but I couldn't stop staring. She wore a crushed velvet blue mini dress, a thick black ch...

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“Long Live the King” by Hazel Ide

🏆 Winner of Contest #216

"I was eight years old the first time I heard his name." Shifting in the hard plastic seat, my wrists are shackled to a metal chain link at the center of the table, limiting my mobility.The officer observes my discomfort passively, already impatient and annoyed with my recollection of events."I was thinking a little more recent, Miss Clark. Like why you were caught standing outside his home with a bloody—""No, no, you d...

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“There, Now I Can Breathe” by Hazel Ide

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #201

Content warning: Depictions of anxiety.It feels like the walls are closing in; the stench of linseed oil, body odor, sweat, and rusted metal permeates the air around me. Closing my eyes, I attempt to ignore all the unfinished projects, but I can't keep my eyes from darting around all the tiny parts littering the table.It was the bezel that did me in. Whatever tenuous hold I have on my sanity slips as my hands shake, and I wipe my sweaty palm on my denim apron and try once more to smooth out the bezeled ...

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Author bio

Aspiring novelist. Zombie enthusiast. Lover of long-winded sentences.

Winning 1 story 🏆

Contest #216
Long Live the King – read story

Shortlisted 2 stories ⭐️

Contest #219
Damn the Lizard Patriarchy – read story
Contest #201
There, Now I Can Breathe – read story