Julie Squires

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

90 karma pts

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“The Halloween Haunting of Flight 317” by Julie Squires

Submitted to Contest #221

The wind howls and the bitter cold bites hard. Slivers of ice stab my cheeks as I make my way to the back of the taxi to gather our luggage from the trunk.  Inside the airport I hold tight to my ten-year old brother’s hand as we wait to board our flight. Squinting to see the snow flying beyond the darkened airport windows, I’m obsessed with Mother Nature’s merciless wrath on this wild moonless October night.

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“A Monster at Midnight” by Julie Squires

Submitted to Contest #174

Twelve-year-old Caleb Prescott was afraid to go home.All he could think about was what his foster father was going to do to him when he got there.He stood motionless for a long time. Until the neon sign of the pizza joint across the street turned off, signifying the late hour.And Caleb knew it was now or never.Snapping out of his hypnotic trance, he looked down and was surprised to see the aluminum bar of his mountain bike between his knees; he’d been straddling ...

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“The Museum of Discarded Children's Souls” by Julie Squires

Submitted to Contest #115

CW: Drugs mention, blood. No one knows where we are. We’re miserably lost.Amidst the darkness, my mom spots a pinprick of light up ahead.Driving along the country road, falling snow envelops us like a cocoon, it floats like sprinkled stardust in the milky luminosity of our headlights.“Up there,” cries my mom, “it looks like a little cottage. Don’t you agree, Isabella?”“Yeah,” I mumble, noticing that she doesn’t ask my dad his opinion. In fact, she’s ...

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“What Happened at the Laundromat” by Julie Squires

Submitted to Contest #31

Trigger warning: threat of sexual assault On a muggy June afternoon, a mass of black rolling clouds overtake the sky above our little town, charging in like a herd of running bulls stirring up dust. And Everett and I barely make it inside the laundromat before the downpour starts. As the washing machine does its thing, we sit silently across from one another in plastic yellow chairs. Each time the lightning casts its ghostly glare through the windows, I brace myself for the moment the splintering sound of the thu...

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