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2 7

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2021

Stories (4)

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4 Stories

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Walking with Death

2 7

I looked at my watch, then at the cadaver reclining motionlessly on the old-fashioned flower printed sofa, his colours fading away from his spotted skin. His jaw was hanging wide open, his wrinkly old man muscles hanging loosely on his skeleton. The newspaper was slipping off his lap, his coffee half-drank and turning cold: 59 killed in plane crash near Roswell Daville. Perhaps I was too early. The soul had already gone. To where? I didn’t know, that was a question for a Life. I pointed at the body with my scythe and with a sw...

3 likes

Paused

2 7

Submitted to Contest #99

There’s too many things and nothing to think about, there’s too many books and no books to read, there’s too many muscles and no muscles to move. And there’s Ma, outside the room, screaming, snapping, growling, trying to drag me out from my room but I tell her I will finish my breakfast after I’m done studying, though the truth is I can’t finish anything. Brain on a grill, that’s what I’m feeling, brain on a grill, melting, melting, melting,I rub my temples, flipping through the pages, my eyes burning from exhaustion, words and pictures danc...

12 likes

The Slaves of Bärkenus

2 7

Submitted to Contest #97

TW: suicide, suicidal ideation I pushed Ginny out the window. It was a quick death, her neck snapped the moment she plummeted onto the hard concrete floor of the orphanage, her broken body adorning the soft glow of the moonlight. I was the next one to go, propping my leg on the wooden ledge and pulling my torso into the frame, the frost in the wind kissing my cheeks as I lifted my head to look at the stars, blinking, enjoying the last bit of beauty none of us were allowed to touch. I shuddered when the door flung open, pushing m...

11 likes

42

2 7

Submitted to Contest #95

It was the 6th of July 1859, he could recall vividly, the day when he met Michael, a man whose moustache twirls with an unyielding confidence he had never seen before, his slender figure wrapped in a tight tuxedo. With Michael, he would not be ordered to deliver letters, although he was allowed to bring along his postman hat when the manager sold him. Everyday, he would wait for orders, bristing in the hallway with his chubby, metallic body glistening, but none would come. However, when it did, Michael would correct him, and tell h...

12 likes