𝛦ǀ𐌉𝓪 𝕽. 𝖩. 𝙎.

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2019

Stories (10)

10 Stories

189 karma pts

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“These Mugs Hold More Than Coffee” by 𝛦ǀ𐌉𝓪 𝕽. 𝖩. 𝙎.

Jake’s eyebrows raised as he looked on at the cluttered table, hands on his hips. It meant that he was surprised. More surprised than he thought he’d be. “I told you I have a lot of them.” Caroline said, her face flushing. She scratched the back of her neck. “I know. I didn’t think you meant a lot, a lot.” He responded. The dining table in the small apartment was crowded with mugs. All different siz...

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“Lost En Route” by 𝛦ǀ𐌉𝓪 𝕽. 𝖩. 𝙎.

The horrible rattling noise never ceased. Never. It had a way of vibrating itself into some semblance of music, a song bordering on madness. A song able to work its way into your ears and penetrate the depths of your mind.A song that seeped inside.A song that one could not escape.Even after you left the range of its sound.I can’t overstate the power of this rattling train. Or maybe it’s a subway… Nah. I saw trees before it got dark.The windows are black, allowing the ugly fluoresce...

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“Tallying The Cell” by 𝛦ǀ𐌉𝓪 𝕽. 𝖩. 𝙎.

The chalk, white and crumbling, more fit to be called powder than a writing tool, squeaked as it moved along the blue tile. “Three-hundred-fifty,” Scallia paused, her brain going momentarily blank. “Five.” She stepped back and admired the work, a line. A simple, 1 and ½ inch, white line, standing out against the blue tile. Scallia hated the color. The calm, relaxed tint that wouldn’...

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“A Mirror On The Elevator” by 𝛦ǀ𐌉𝓪 𝕽. 𝖩. 𝙎.

Mirror On The Elevator A Short Story By Ella Sipp Victoria DuPont strutted into Macy’s on the day before Christmas Eve. It was practically bursting with people going to and fro, buying this, listing that, shopping and talking and chattering and talking. The noise, the miserable noise. Madam DuPont thought, for that was what she like...

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“Just Fine” by 𝛦ǀ𐌉𝓪 𝕽. 𝖩. 𝙎.

The girl gazed wonderingly at the sky. Nameless shining objects hung to its blackness, seemingly by an unseen force. Even though she didn't understand why or how they were there, the shining things intrigued her. What was in the beyond? She wondered. Would she ever know? Or would this glittering canopy be all she ever saw. First and her brother swu...

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“The Hand Cream Demise” by 𝛦ǀ𐌉𝓪 𝕽. 𝖩. 𝙎.

Endow Jupiter tucked the pistol in his jacket pocket, smoothing his black overcoat on top of it to disguise the bulge. The suit was very expensive, he reminded himself proudly as he looked in the mirror. Faint silvery designs ran over its lavish fabric, their reflective surfaces allowing light to glint on it like stars to a sky. An array of elegant soaps, lotions and hair creams dotted his hotel room’s sink. The ...

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“Death on New Year's” by 𝛦ǀ𐌉𝓪 𝕽. 𝖩. 𝙎.

Death On New YearsBy Ella R. S.I picked her up when she was sleeping. A tiny thing she was, her name was carved on the side of the cradle: Emmy.

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“The Wogercorn ” by 𝛦ǀ𐌉𝓪 𝕽. 𝖩. 𝙎.

Somewhere in the canyons, over the ridges and sands, there was a house. It was not the type of house one would expect to find in the middle of nowhere. A two-story, four bed and two bath home that was painted a sky blue, it had small windows with white trimmed shutters, a long porch and a fat, blue front door. It was neat, trimmed, clean. Around it sat a perfect ring of emerald-green grass enclosed with a white picket fence. The whole property sat between two gig...

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“White Blanket And A Draft” by 𝛦ǀ𐌉𝓪 𝕽. 𝖩. 𝙎.

Mabel gently awoke. It was the light that had coaxed her from her sleep. Through the window, an erie pinkish-white glow emanated from outside, disturbing the usually flashy-dark night. She looked over at her older sister, Sarah, still asleep on the cot next to her. That’s when Mabel noticed the silence. Undisturbed, muffled silence. ...

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“Taproom Reversal” by 𝛦ǀ𐌉𝓪 𝕽. 𝖩. 𝙎.

It was three days before Christmas on a cold winter night in 1899. The city of Brooklin had the holiday spirit in full swing, there was no holding back. Carolers prowled the streets every night, skies lit up with the collective glow of Christmas lights, snow danced across the frost bitten air and stores were jam-packed with every holiday supplies imaginable.

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Author bio

I have been writing stories since I was nine or ten years old. I've always flitted from hobby to hobby throughout my life, but writing is something that I've always stuck with. I love it with a passion and enjoy it beyond words.