reedsymarketplace
Hire professionals for your project
reedsyblog
Advice, insights and news
reedsylearning
Online publishing courses
reedsylive
Free publishing webinars
reedsydiscovery
Launch your book in style
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2020
"Do you consider yourself an angry man, Mr. Cohen?" The three-walled room with a double-sided glass on one side seemed oddly small. The man, Mr. Cohen, could make out two additional figures opposite the glass because of their loud voices, besides the one detective in the same room as him. Dark and dimly lit, one could hardly call it a room with its eerie corners. A few moths with their paper-thin wings fluttered about in the flickering white tube light. He held onto the shard of the broken mirror tightly, but not eno...
"They used to be very close. It's truly a pity.""Fate was indeed cruel to the poor family.""The youngest didn't even attend his brother's funeral all those years ago.""He had estranged himself from his family when he was just seventeen!"Whispers and murmurs of the tragic day spread like wildfire across the whole town. Eyes trailed the man with their piercing gaze burning on his back. Rhett trod the murky streets of Williamsburg, grey eyes reflecting a faint familiarity from the bygone days. He didn't require a map or a guide to let him...
Submitted to Contest #103
“Secrets carry weight, like lead.” Iris inhaled the pleasant air which was ripe with the dewy petrichor of the post-rain evening. A cool breeze ruffled the leaves of nearby lofty mango trees, all of which were well endowed with succulent yellow mangoes. The sky was shades of pretty pink and purple pastels. Making her way down the narrow path between the tall trees, she recollected her memories with Dante, Isabelle, Rhett, and Jax; running along the shore, pushing each other in the sea, and dreaming about sailing the world one day. They w...
Submitted to Contest #97
The night had let down her curtains. One could see millions of brightly lit stars at close quarters, twinkling and giving the impression of a beautifully choreographed ballet. But it was the moon who stole the show. The moon was more beautiful than even the stars around. Everything seemed exquisite bathed in the mystic moonlight. A cool summer breeze blew, ruffling the leaves of a nearby olive tree. I quivered, feeling the wind on the back of my neck, a gentle caress on my skin. Unaccustomed to the freshness, my lungs jerkily expanded as I b...
Submitted to Contest #92
They say that light always wins, overpowering the darkness, be it fiction or reality. Everyone glorifies the light, the yang, shunning the darkness and thinking of it as the 'wrong way of life. But without the dark, we wouldn't know of the light. This is my story. A story about darkness. A story where one surrenders to the orphic shadows which our demons thirst for. A story where yin triumphs. * * * In the faraway lands of Galaecia, the kingdom of hope, righteousness, beliefs, and love stood. For all that people knew, merry days...
Submitted to Contest #85
I walked past the rigid security guard towards my new home. The smell of wood and paint, quite prominent. Anita, the real estate manager, kept on pestering me with the same question, "Are you perfectly sure you want to live here, Ailith? Not that it's a bad place, but are you positive? No one has lived here ever since the Victorian era, probably. Plus, this place does not receive much sunlight either, then there is the issue of the draught. There are a lot of stories revolving around this particular mansion too you know, especially about a...
Submitted to Contest #77
The falling of white snow on the ashen ground, like silver glitter being sprinkled on paper, giving the winter life and making familiar streets a canvas for dreams. Quiet poetry forms in my soul, the warmth within bringing crystalline joy. Every tiny, sculpted snowflake, unique and worth a thousand smiles, a billion more uniting over the earth. It is the season when puddles turn to icy rinks, sparkling brightly upon the falling of rays of the brightest star in the sky, the season where one can see their breath rise as neat and pure vapor, th...
Submitted to Contest #75
Memories are hunting horns, Whose sound dies on winds. And we forget because we must, And not because we will. -Guillaume Apollinaire and Matthew Arnold ... I was pulled into a deep abyss as darkness engulfed me. And I just kept falling and falling. Pulled away from reality. The red-eyed creatures with the black fangs kept chasing after me. Their bony and bloodied fingers with long, witch-like nails kept trying to grab my limbs. Their monstrous cackles and ghastly sounds echoing and tormenting me. And they wouldn't stop. Not until I comp...
Submitted to Contest #69
"I have news. Good news, people." I looked around to see everyone meddling in each other's miserable mundane work. None interested in what I had to say, except for Bumbleweed.Now, who is Bumbleweed you ask? Bumbleweed is our goldfish. Very poofed up and golden(probably because no one feeds him regularly, and the poor soul has to live off the water which makes him round as it consumes more space). He looked at me with his wide eyes, flapping his fins in the little living space he had made for himself out of his droppings, leftover food, and d...
Submitted to Contest #67
It is the type of coldness that reaches into my bones, as if my heart were a door left wide open to the icy wind, slamming only to open again. The only thing to do is keep moving, keep heading toward home if I only remembered. The sky is a rolling blanket of cloud, the color of wet ash, and the ground its dank reflection. Each step becomes a prayer for someplace safe as I walk, seeing the light from a faraway doorway in my flickering daydreams, letting it become more real than the stormy night. My vision clouded and dull, as if a gray film...
Submitted to Contest #64
"This is a bad idea, milady.", Amelia stated, huffing warm air into her shivering hands. "What if we get caught? The Lord will surely have my head, and, you too, will be given some punishment." Lillian, her little sister, who was barely a year younger than me, gasped loudly, "What if they force your hand in marriage to that pimplypoop?" She spatted out the name. Ah, pimplypoop, or more so known as Lord Taylium Grimes, was a skinflint with a beer belly and had a strange obsession with collecting flowers. I was his flavor of the week. His ...
Submitted to Contest #63
The autumn had dressed for the coming season, donning her most vibrant hues. She had swept into our streets and woodlands with a humble boldness that invited the eye to see more than they otherwise might. The autumn took her pirouette, her sweet turn on the stage all around, and we were are all so blessed to be given such beauty. There were the browns that come as a comforting quilt to the earth, yet the rest are the hues of volcanoes, of firework sparks and festival hoopla. It was as if nature is calling out to the spring and the trees coul...
From deepest ebony to melodic umber hues, from cream softened oranges to the greens that mature into a sea-spun sage - the fall had arrived and is as welcome as a long remembered song.The autumn had dressed for the coming season, donning her most vibrant hues. She had swept into our streets and woodlands with a humble boldness that invited the eye to see more than they otherwise might. We were are all so blessed to witness such beauty. There were the browns that come as some quilt to the earth, yet the rest are the hues of volcanoes, of fire...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: