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ℙ𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙π•ͺ π»π‘’π’Ήπ‘”π‘’π’½π‘œπ‘”

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020

Stories (8)
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130 Followers
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8 Stories

434 karma pts

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Memoriae

Submitted to Contest #51

By the time I got there, the black cat was already sitting on the bench, the one with the peeling green paint and the inscription β€œIn memory of Mrs. Hallie Goodwall”. β€œSo?” His yellow eyes glowed eerily in the dark, seeing right through my question like two beams of a flashlight cutting through the darkness. He sighed, too, so at least I knew he could still speak. Or maybe I was just making sure I could hear him, making sure that I was still a freak.β€œAddie, dear, you’ve got to be patient,” he drawled, looking positively bored. β€œI’m a ca...

47 likes 39 comments 39
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The Meaning of Life

Submitted to Contest #45

Every day, so many of us walk along the same familiar path down the same familiar road. We see the same people, laugh about the same things as the day before. We go to work, come home and greet our kids. Before we know it, we’ve lived out our working years and live in a retirement home in Arizona. This is what people call a good life. A life that can be boring, but it is consistently good. So we think. Though, we also think that we are predestined to live a certain life from birth. We’re wrong. Calling our life meaningful is a disgrace. Lif...

39 likes 11 comments 11
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The Cruelest Month

Submitted to Contest #44

One day, it was the first of April, and just like that, the winter melted into sweet spring, and the first blossoms of the year bloomed already from the frost. It was also the day I last held my sister’s hand, the last pure, happy day of the ignorance of childhood. I was running around the train station, my bashful, cheerful self tugging on my mother’s skirt. Our mother always wore long skirts that billowed into a delicate bell shape in the wind. Olivia, my sister, was sitting with her suitcase, mindlessly tugged at a hardy purple flower jut...

25 likes 6 comments 6
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Who I Am

Submitted to Contest #43

September 14It’s 4 A.M. right now and I am officially awake. Yay. What’s the point in sleeping anyways? Sleeping supposedly helps you learn, though I’m not learning anything in the slightest from anyone, and it won’t happen for a while, if ever. So I am beginning to think, like all people do at 4 A.M. when they can’t sleep. I suddenly thought of a question I don’t dare to answer: who am I?Identity. What is it? Does it define who you are, or simply how you appear? I have struggled to figure this out my entire life, but I, as an extreme introv...

29 likes 11 comments 11
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Dear Philippe

Submitted to Contest #42

Dear Philippe, How long has it been since I last saw you? Oh… my dear friend. My love. Where have you gone? Do you sit in the clouds, spin a gust of wind around your finger as you watch us from above? Do you long for those sweet-smelling grass plains, for the places we used to sit, your arm around me? My heart aches when I think of your laugh, the sweetest melody, the way it rang like bells in the vast fields…  I remember you told me that when you first saw me, you knew you had to be with me. I never told you what had happened when I fi...

20 likes 3 comments 3
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Bud, My Guitar, and Me

Submitted to Contest #41

The thick summer air envelops me in its warm, sweet wind, and the smell of honeysuckle accompanies the laid-back country song I was strumming. The wood of my guitar presses lightly against my torso, the shiny amber-colored wood gleaming in the sun, and I chew on a piece of hay as I lay back, playing my way to sleep. The bustling city miles away, the countryside is peaceful and empty, except for the crickets chirping in the early evening shade. A light weight on my worn-out boots makes me sit up. What I find startles me a bit. A small gr...

19 likes 6 comments 6
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Hand in Hand

Submitted to Contest #40

The rain, pouring from the sky, shimmers like the tears of the gods. The air is heavy and smells the earthy smell of fallen leaves, trampled until there’s nothing left of its delicate fibers except a mushy pulp, threatening to avenge itself by humiliating us. The mortifying moment after you slip on those very same leaves makes you wonder just how powerful and humane Mother Earth is. Very powerful, it seems, but not powerful enough to go against science, against genetics, Not powerful enough to assure we all have what we need. Like Doi. Her n...

19 likes 7 comments 7
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My Shooting Star

Submitted to Contest #39

On the day my daughter died, the stars smiled down at me, in their beautiful but sad way. I asked myself how the stars could look so happy on such a sad day, and looked up. It was almost as if they looked back at me, the way a mother looks at her child, comforting, loving, and quiet. The stars kept me going through it all. Even as a young child, I had always loved the stars and how they twinkled in the sky, formed pictures, told stories. I loved how whenever I was feeling down, I could tell myself, β€œLook, Orion. The stars will come out tonig...

18 likes 7 comments 7
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