Abigail Airuedomwinya

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2019

Stories (135)

135 Stories

18090 karma pts

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“white London ” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

When the P's in her writing became dented, Mimi knew it was time to give up calligraphy. Her online teacher was skilled with helping broken students but when Mimi told him about her plans to stop, he did not try to stop her. She deleted everything that had to do with calligraphy from her phone and curled up inside her garden. It was a large room with sunlight coming in at all times.  Mimi did not have to ...

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“the writer's design” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

I wrote a story about shoelaces and city skylines where the protagonist loved a boy and the boy died. None of that was important or rightly belonged in my heart but I titled it Oblivion and asked my sister to read. There was a fear in my heart as she took the book to read. I was afraid, as most writers would, of how she would perceive the story. Would she understand the gravity of the story or the dilemma which I'd creat...

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“a little something ” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

Ingrid stood by the window. Her hands were shaking. Behind her, a young woman sat, holding a flask of whisky."So the deal is still on?" she asked without turning around.The visitor gave her a weary smile and looked away. Outside it was still snowing. Everything was a wide stretch of painful white and they knew it. Ingrid had turned on the heater and had reluctantly given her visitor a seat. "Can I get a cigarette?" The visitor asked, looking up tentatively. There were little things to say. The silence was inevita...

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“Peppermint” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

She listens to Ed Sheeran on weekends and then makes paper planes to throw against my window. She tells me it's nothing personal but it's how I know she's happy. When she stops, it's on a Tuesday. A cold Tuesday morning. I waited for the white paper to crush itself against my window but it never came. There was no song from her home. Just a delicate silence, big enough to bend a tree. I took a box of choc...

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“do not dance with your eyes closed” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

6. "Welcome, Suzan. You want to sit —oh, lie down if you must. It's such a beautiful day, right?" "Perhaps." "I didn't pick you as the sort of person to want a second session. Know what I mean?" "I dont think you should say that." "Why? I'm your friend pretending to be a therapist. Why do you even need me? It's not like I'm one." "I can't afford one right now." "Fine." "I ...

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“No waiting in line” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

She forgot the traditions; of her mother in the kitchen, stirring the pot of Owo soup, sweating and talking about politics. There was a way of life back then, a wave of emotions when it came down to her family. But she forgot about it when the gathering began.It was a small group -this gathering - which consisted of men with sad eyes and women with dying husbands. Simi was none. She was the only one in the group who did not know why she loved bonfire smokes or the rise and fall of a beating heart. When the seven of them ...

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“Kettles” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

I met a man in a bar. He was no ordinary man. He had long grey hair that colored his eyes when he talked and a mouth so small it felt the words he spoke were not his. He came and he sat beside me and he looked around at the dull faces of the people in the bar.  "They make it feel so sad," he said. He asked for a pint of beer and gulped it down immediately. He cleaned his mouth with the back of his palms. An...

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“The inbetweener” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

Nothing happened on our first day at the Sert Motel. At least, nothing remarkable. The day came just like every other day, dressed up in blue lights and sun-filled scars. Dylan and I woke up at exactly eight. It was an overly bright day. Christmas Eve. We drank coffee, ate waffles, and snuck into the garden by the side of the motel. We played some songs and followed a few of the guests down the slippery road to the small...

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“Common sense” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

 Judging from the cut on his lower lip when he first walked in, Emma Cha could tell her husband had been in another fight. They'd been having frequent talks about the bloodstains on his shirt, his drunken stutters, and the countless bar fights. Sometimes the talks turned into shouts and slamming fists. And other times, it led to her calling up his mother who lived miles away in an old house.They'd only been married for a year but Emma was certain it wouldn't last. She loved her husband -Yun- but there was a restrict...

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“The hell of it” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

The thing about remembering my grandmother is that I have to remember her yellow teeth and her wrinkling arms. And then I have to picture her as the old woman who fell asleep in my arms. It is a somewhat hard thing to do because I miss her. I miss her white smiles and her yellow embraces.  She was a good cook but more than that, she could bake the world like it was flawless. I remember the way she would d...

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“her life or yours in a movie” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

It is brutally true that he forgot today was her birthday. So she's standing in the rain in a broken heel and she's searching for someone who'll ask her why she won't call him. The alleyway is dark and smells of rotten food but she doesn't care. Her hands tremble. She smiles quietly like a tired clown and then begins to sing. She still can't believe he's forgotten again. The time is seven in the evening. ...

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“Yesterday ” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

DETECTIVE DRAYMON AND RUKKIThe wedding band had started to fade. It wasn't a real diamond in the first place. Rukki held it against the afternoon sun filtering inside the small apartment and then looked away, frowning. "Why do you think he would murder Ms. Juliet?"Rukki was tired of talking. The afternoon sun was hotter than she'd bargained for and sweat had begun to mar her forehead. She closed her eyes for a second, pretending she knew why a detective with a balding head would knock on her door in th...

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“Step Mother” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

1. My mother and her mother and the women before, had the same problem: being too judgemental. I didn't know then, when her eyes would bulge out, listening to my type of songs that one day she would break the CDs on my table and laugh at it. Of course, I wouldn't know anything. I was a teenager with a naive soul.  When my friends would come home, I'd serve them cold lemonade and laugh with them. When they left, however, my mother would sit down on the kitchen table to pick out who couldn't be a suita...

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“Ragged” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

It had been twenty-four years since she'd last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. The flowerbeds were all intact, thriving even in the summer sun. She sat quietly in the car, her body just a mass of bone and shame. She lifted a finger to touch her lips and when she brought it down, she could see herself as a little child, running and laughing and wishing to be grown up.The house stared at her, quietly like a mouse. It had done that before - stared her down with a hint of quiet panic- and it had done it well....

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“We the good girls” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

I learned how to dream on cardboard boxes, eyes straining to catch the sunlight. 1959 in Nigeria had not been the best year for friends but I had one I learned how to dream with. Together our eyes would catch the sun. I'd watch the light dance in her eyes and I would ache to warm her body with mine.  She was just like me. We were both orphans too young to be happy and too old to continue living in the orp...

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