A Dead Poet .

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2021

Stories (4)

4 Stories

149 karma pts

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“INANIS ” by A Dead Poet .

Submitted to Contest #113

INANISHer worst nightmare began as soon as she stepped in. A black rotary dial hang on the wall, missing some bits and with a hole that exposed a few wires but not much. It had a scratch or two to the left, and there was nothing else in there. She pulled herself from corner to corner in the living room and paused now and then to peek through each other room wishing for something different. She stopped when her feet hurt and then continued again, hoping to have missed anything. Little difference that it would make to the obvious. She leaned s...

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“Gin and Tonic” by A Dead Poet .

Submitted to Contest #101

He mentioned on the phone that he will tattoo my name on his right thigh and that we should get back together. We never spoke about breaking up, but I guess it was in the air. Last time I saw him I didn’t have a clear look of his face. It was all vague. He pinned me to the ground, and my elbows itched with the hard carpet. I tilted my head left and right along with my body to resist him, but it only increased his strength, as he glued my left cheek to the ground. I could smell the remains of the dripped liqueur on the carpet. His breath reek...

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“He Told Me So” by A Dead Poet .

Submitted to Contest #99

We used to play chess together. I knew that he was done for when I was walking past his window early in the morning. It was closed, but I knew that it should have been open. He was a sick man. He couldn't complete a sentence without interrupting himself with a cough or a shriek, spitting all over the place. Whenever he talked, he looked as if he was dying. It was an amusing sight. I was up late (pulled an all-nighter) because of my older brother Jeremy. He had told me that tomorrow, just after the sun rises, there will be a solar eclipse. Af...

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“Polyphony” by A Dead Poet .

Submitted to Contest #98

1Late at night I left, a few hours before dawn. There was no light but of the moon and dim ugly poles. I couldn’t yet grasp the notion of why I left, but I had no intentions of returning, no, I can’t return. Until I find what I seek, I will leave everything behind. In the drawer, there was a scrapbook. I held it tightly and closed my eyes tracing my fingers on it as if I was trying to memorize its texture. I put it back, hands shaking clumsily. I closed the door and another door. I was gone. I want to float. Trains come and go. Which one wil...

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