Adriana K. Maxwell

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

Stories (23)

23 Stories

964 karma pts

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“Wool Gathering” by Adriana K. Maxwell

Don’t you remember? I was young, and the sun was yellow on the grass. We were chaotic children, traipsing with scraped knees and bulging pockets, in the meadow between the library and the brick museum with the two-headed lamb. I don’t remember the other tents on the edge, but I remember the cool of the shadow as I sat crisscrossed, slowly peeling leaves from the grass, as I listened. I don’t remember her...

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“Exit Agency” by Adriana K. Maxwell

Exit AgencyHalf down. No refunds. Prices vary by customer. Contracts sacred.--And of course, it’s a parking ticket, because that’s how Simon Barell’s day/week/life goes. It’s just the way the joke would go. He gets in, rests his forehead on the wheel for just a few seconds, just to breathe, before looking at the ...

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“The World Was Over and They Were Not” by Adriana K. Maxwell

The world was over and they were not.  It did not matter how. The reporters, videos, and politicians had all argued and pointed blame, but they hadn’t listened. They were young and powerless so they decided not to worry. And after everything fell, it didn’t matter what happened first.  They were tired, hungry, and wanted a hot shower, but they were not over. They were lucky, they knew, but...

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“The Final Word of Yellow Roses” by Adriana K. Maxwell

His job was boring. Paid well, but boring. But sometimes the people could be interesting. He peeked out at the waiting room at his 3 pm appointment. She was early, arrived at 2:25 pm.             She wasn’t much. His receptionist said she had been almost impossible to hear on the phone.              Her clothes were wrong. Borrowed, maybe, but no, th...

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“No” by Adriana K. Maxwell

"Just say it," you silently reminded yourself. You knew you'd regret it if you didn't.  It would be one of those shower arguments with months-old, years-old regrets. And the hot water could never appreciate the comebacks that had simmered so long. Not again. Not this time. You could just walk away. Just walk away and keep your mouth shut. Be good. Be respectful. If ...

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“Once Upon A Time” by Adriana K. Maxwell

 Once upon a time, there was a father and a girl who did not want to go to sleep. So, the father rubbed her back as she curled up next to him and he told her a story. She liked the ones of other worlds best, of worlds inside puddles, of little girls walking under snowy lampposts. Of great quiet people who could bottle starlight. Of little people with tails who carried needles as rapiers.      And the girl would listen, eyes closing so she could see it bet...

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“Kedo, Kedo” by Adriana K. Maxwell

“Well, are you ready to thank God for the damn spotted blinds and all the ducks on the pond?” someone asked as he squinted himself awake. The bright light hurt. He felt horrible. And he wasn’t dead. Right now, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He was in the hospital. Ryan stared at the stranger at his bedside. There wasn’t much to look at really. Bright red beanie, ratty grey turtleneck, long black feathered bangs with a silver stripe, covering most of his eyes.<...

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“Waiting for Good-bye” by Adriana K. Maxwell

She was always waiting for good-bye. Her room changed. Different bed, different windows, different scenes. Bontoc mountains with green rice terraces, clothes waving from red rebars sticking out from flat concrete roofs, pig squeals, roosters competing, and the boy who played guitar. Shanghai lights, tall buildings, a golden fish pond, magnolias, and if the smog wasn’t bad, the Pearl Tower pinch-tall in the distance. Bright Honduran houses, cowboy men...

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“Sister of Summer Flowers” by Adriana K. Maxwell

The most surprising thing about Amari was that she was never surprising when he was with her. It was only afterwards when he was trying to think of words to describe her, if he ever were to tell anyone. He always called her a girl, but said out loud, that sounded like a five-year old. She was as tall as one of the young women who danced every Friday night in the village. She was far older than that though she didn’t look it and she never counted. Still, the word “girl” stuck in his mind. She was a pretty g...

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“Raindrop Races” by Adriana K. Maxwell

My drop is losing. I want to tap the glass but that would be cheating. I do not cheat, not even when I am at home alone. It quivers, raising my hopes… Finally.. But no, it stays in place. Its neighbor is slowly slipping down when it bumps into another raindrop, absorbs it, and together they race down to the windowpane. Why do they never go straight down? They always leave behind a zig-zag trail, like sleepy liquid lightning. The glass is smooth. I don’t understand. My drop shudder...

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“From Mountains of Sunflowers” by Adriana K. Maxwell

Lovely grew up in terraced mountains yellow with Christmas sunflowers.              “It’s kinda funny,” Amanda said, as they walked the SM mall together.              “What?” Lovely asked.             “The song,” she said.Lovely didn’t understand at first. Perhaps it was the timing. Christmas music starte...

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“Knots” by Adriana K. Maxwell

He is good with knots. Not tying words together, not putting them so they make sense, not connecting people, nothing figurative or important. But he’s good at knots and string. He makes loops, pulls string through, tightens. Words come thick and fouled like retching molasses.She is looking at him again, tapping her fingers. He knows she is going to call his name.He makes another loop, grasps the string, feeds the end through, pulls it, tightens.When he was young, he was the first to l...

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“The UnderRoad” by Adriana K. Maxwell

You could easily go past it. It is a drab little building, built right under the bridge. It has mottled walls of brown, grey, and tan bricks, darkened by the exhaust from the cars going by or floating down from the road above. Apparently, windows had been used to fill in any gaps in the wall. It was the only logical reason for their scattered position and mismatched styles. But if you go through the black door with the bright yellow trim, they say that you will find help.  It doesn’t look like it.&nbs...

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“The Wrong Name (Too Many Colors)” by Adriana K. Maxwell

Bounce. Pick up one. Catch.He had the wrong name. “Ethan” was supposed to be strong.Bounce. Pick up two. Catch.Or maybe he was just the wrong person. Perhaps if his mother had given him his own name, instead of an Old Worlder name, it would have better. He could have made his own meaning.

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“Don't Go Into The Woods” by Adriana K. Maxwell

“Don’t go into the woods,” they said. Do not go under the emerald leaves, do not venture on the twisted paths. Fools see a shortcut; wise men went around. Strange things lurk there. “Stay in the light,” they said. The shadows move. If they catch you, if they touch you, they will steal your shape and leave you flat. “Don’t trust the beautiful,” they said.  Don’t look at their faces, beautiful women though they seem, or their eyes will trap you. Look behind. They have no backs. Hollow they a...

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Author bio

I am a traveler, a writer, and an artist. I love fantasy and tend to write about belonging. You can check out my Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/adriana.k.maxwell/

Winning 1 story 🏆

Contest #7
Don't Drink The Stars – read story

Shortlisted 3 stories ⭐️

Contest #60
The World Was Over and They Were Not – read story
Contest #9
Dandelion – read story
Contest #5
My Father Fought Dragons, and I Do Dishes – read story