A Mehendale

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2020

Stories (48)

48 Stories

769 karma pts

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“ND-M08.txt” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #82

I’ve always known I was different, from my peers. ‘Not like the other girls’. The other girls could make friends easily, move fluidly, wear dresses and dance in the sun. They could stay up all night discussing which celebrities were and weren’t attractive. They could walk through metal detectors without causing international incidents.Perhaps some of that is relatable to you. Some of it, I assume, is not. I have read that self-doubt, insecurities, isolation, are all quintessential parts of the teenage experience. By that metric alone, I must...

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“Pillow Talk” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #81

“Rumour has it Sir Rodney is no longer the only man to grace Miss Abigail’s chambers.” The Earl of Carlisle hums, noncommittally. He rolls one shoulder and continues to undress for the night.  Across the bed, his wife, the Countess, arches a single, plucked brow, and continues.  “Rumour also has it, that of all the heads she turns as she walks, yours is the neck that twists most.” Carlisle seats himself on the edge of the bed. His voice is even when he answers, smooth and just barely amused. “Is that so?” he asks, and now i...

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“A Trip to Revolution Square” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #80

Élise stumbles. Her shoes are a little tight, and that’s good because it means she’s growing, and Aalis hadn’t outgrown these shoes until she was twelve so it also means she’s probably going to be taller than her, but it also means that her feet have started hurting all the time, and she trips a lot more now than she used to. Her grip on Aalis’ wrist tightens instinctively, but it’s a hot day and she’s wearing her cloak and her palms are sweaty and her hand slips right away. Aalis keeps walking, and it’s only a few steps before she noti...

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“Lady Magdalena” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #79

They come while she sleeps. They creep in as cowards, armed and armoured and arrogant. They think she’ll be easy. They think she’s alone and asleep and vulnerable, and though they walk slowly, careful and measured, they don’t let the creaking floorboards concern them. They tend to let very little ever concern them. The inner door groans lightly as it swings in. Four sets of steps come into the bedchamber, taking up four different positions around the bed. She is outnumbered. All seems as according to plan. She lies on a bed, they s...

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“Maashtun” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #78

Whispers follow them through the streets. There they go, the voices say, coloured with fear and awe and intrigue. They ooh and they aah, at the silver horses, the gilt frame of the carriage, they marvel at what might lie hidden within, the thought of jewel bedecked walls and velvet floors.Among them are those more wary. They speak only in soft murmurs, they trade rumours and pass judgements. Heathens. Cambions. Witches.And one phrase rises above it all, louder than the muttered insults, more hushed than the awestruck wonder. There go th...

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“Blue Ice” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #77

It’s snowing.Holy Hell it’s snowing.****************************************************************************“But soft! What is this? My eyes must deceive me!”Eira snorts, and tosses a bunch of the small yellow flowers lying on the ground at her. Yu makes no move to swat them away, too committed to her act, back arched and hands clutching her chest. They bounce off her left thigh.She carries on.“But alas, they do not. Oh say it is not so, that the madness has not come for thee, for my dearest friend.” She throws herself to her knees....

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“A One Shot” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #76

Her knuckles are white against the dark rubber handlebars. It’s an effort just to relax her grip as she brings the bike to a stop. She’s hunched over, gun holstered at her waist. It’s grip digs into her side; she straightens to ease the pressure. Leg up, kickstand down. She tilts the bike sideways until it stands stable, plants her left foot on the ground, and swings her other leg over the seat, dismounting.Hands come up to her face. She pulls off the helmet - a lingering remnant of a time now gone. Her hair is lying flat against her skull -...

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“A Study in Cyber” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #75

“Hey, you! Got a name yet?”The girl looks up. Gone is the braided hair, the pin laden denim and crimson boots. The sides of her head have been shaved smooth to reveal gleaming new implants, straight silver lines that run flat and parallel along the curve of her skull. The same metal glints at the corner of her mouth - he makes a mental note to talk to Janyx about offering clients amateur piercings. Again. She looks confused. Hesitant. “Um, its Neyr, sir.”He shakes his head, dismissive. Every goddamn time. Twenty-three years in the game,...

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“Unpolished” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #74

His strokes are bold and precise, and his fingertips rest cool on her hand for seconds that hold an eternity. The sensation feels foreign, though not unpleasant - a smooth pressure, passing evenly along the nail. She watches out of the corner of her eye, gaze ostensibly fixed on the tiled floor. Alex, for his part, is utterly focussed in front of her, his entire body hunched into and around her thumb. He doesn’t look at her face, and he doesn’t ask any questions, for which she is grateful.  He hadn’t said anything earlier either, th...

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“Marry Me” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #73

A thud. The mattress wobbles.“Hey. Marry me.”Anoushka groans, and burrows further into the pillow.______________________________________________________Some unknowable number of hours later, Anoushka is finally feeling once more capable of being alive, though not without some bitterness. She finds Jade in the kitchen, sat cross-legged on a chair and hunched over a book. She looks up as Anoushka comes in, smiles at her, soft and warm.“Merry Almost Christmas.”“Back at ya.” She pauses on her way to the kettle, hand coming to rest on the back of...

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“Regarding the Appointment of one M. Aria Cavalletti” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #72

The letter comes in one of those fancy envelopes, with the plastic windows that show the address so you don’t have to write it on the outside like some plebeian. I work a penknife between the flap and the back, and run the blade along the top to open it.The first thing I see is the letterhead. Loud, almost garish: a single, curved block of colour, black fading into reds into oranges and yellows. The paper is top heavy with the sheer mass of ink - it must have been bloody expensive to print. Then, the main text.Dear M. Cavalletti,We have...

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“The Bounteous Ballad of the Baked Good” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #71

Me and some friends, too many to list, Were one day drinking, getting pissed When, in my drunken stupor, blissed, I had a great idea. “You see, I’ve read online,” I said “ - wherever my last wiki rabbit hole led - “Of a cookie that over a hundred feet spread “From front unto its rear.” And with that told, I did relate My master plan: that we create For those that we appreciate A way to bring them cheer. “Let’s bake a cookie, overgrown, “That weighs well over three grand stone, “And with that, claim a Guinness throne “To share among tho...

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“Drip” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #70

“Well, if that’s your decision.”The knife glints in the flickering fluorescent light.“Let me know if you change your mind.”   It sinks to the hilt into his gut, slow and deep and deliberate.Retreating footsteps. They pause.“I wouldn’t wait too long, though. If I were you.”Hinges creak as the door swings open and shut.And there is nothing left but pained gasps, shallow breaths, and the slow drip of blood.****************************************************************************“Have fun in there?”Avia’s waiting for her outsid...

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“Escaping the Bherg” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #69

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe that’s why my relationship with my family improves the more systems I put between us.I’m in my bunk, staring up at my mother’s face, stretched awkwardly across the bolts in the ceiling. We’ve been speaking for almost eight clix, and if three rotations ago you’d told me that not only could I hold a conversation - with my mother, no less - for that long, but that I’d be reluctant to end it, I’d have named you a liar and a fool. Three rotations ago it sometimes felt like my mother and I could ...

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“A Tale from Blythe Manor” by A Mehendale

Submitted to Contest #68

The Blythe Estate seemed endless. At times it felt daunting - as if she could walk for days and never breach it’s boundaries, forever doomed to roam the grounds, like a fair maiden charmed by faeries.The sky was the muted grey of a lazy dawn. Strange, Amélie mused, how the sunrise could creep up on you. Undoubtedly it was lighter than it had been when they left, and yet the sun was nowhere to be seen, hidden either by the horizon or the myriad clouds that dulled the sky. Master James Blythe stood a few paces away, eyes focussed upwards....

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Author bio

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Shortlisted 2 stories ⭐️

Contest #103
The Curious Case of Eliza MacDougall – read story
Contest #89
Tolden Castle – read story