Adriana K. Maxwell

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

Stories (23)

23 Stories

967 karma pts

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“Naked ” by Adriana K. Maxwell

Submitted to Contest #15

“Bet Prissy’s never seen one naked. Probably die of shame, wouldn’t you, Jax?” Frank jeers.Ethan is trying to ignore them. His burger is finished. Frank had told Bill Waters that the bar had good, cheap food. He didn’t mention the cheap women.But they were going to keep talking. And his nickname didn't help.“All dogs are,” he says, keeping his head low, folding the napkin into intricate shapes, squares, and triangles.He’s not stupid. Not like they think. He knows what they mean. He’s heard worse. Doesn...

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“Blueberries” by Adriana K. Maxwell

Submitted to Contest #12

Never talk to strangers on the internet. Never think that you are the one teenager who can solve the conspiracy. Never join a gang. Above all, beware of little girls in pigtails. It’s advice he would give his children, if he ever has some. If he ever gets a life beyond her.Perhaps, he could tell his nephews, one day, when he stops lying. But that will probably be when she’s dead.He wouldn’t take his own advice though. He’s forever finding Cherry-Sour lollipops in the couch and knives taped under chairs.&nbs...

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“Dandelion” by Adriana K. Maxwell

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #9

The old man was never good with names. Or kids. He is excellent at flowers. That’s why the bus stops in front of his garden. The neighborhood thinks it makes them more distinguished and tempts the children away from their electronics. Gives them “a real sense of nature” as if nature could be learned in the eight to fifteen minutes waiting for the yellow behemoth. As if gardening was as simple as “stick it in the ground, add water.” They don’t appreciate the art, the precision of sun and shade, the correct ...

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“"Pray They Don't Bite Us"” by Adriana K. Maxwell

Submitted to Contest #8

The village of Saclit was a border town, on the edge of Kalinga and Mountain Province. New People’s Army communist rebels rustled through the green woods and came in for rice and blue LP tanks for their generators. My father, the first time, was asked if he was going for the drugs or the girls. The man on the jeepney was eager to sell him both. I wasn’t afraid of it. The rebels claimed to be for the poor. It wasn’t logical for the rebels to...

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“Don't Drink The Stars” by Adriana K. Maxwell

🏆 Winner of Contest #7

The sky was dripping again. The grass was blue with it. Mr. Thomson was screaming about his car getting stained. Now, he would have to paint it again. Or he could wait until a good sunset dripped. The Junbergs were sitting on their porch, drinking a bottled 4:30 am August sunrise. They insisted that only 4 am sunrises were proper quality. 5 am was too bitter. And 6 am wasn’t worth speaking of. Since they were some of the few willing to wake up at that time, it was no wonder that they made the goo...

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“My Father Fought Dragons, and I Do Dishes” by Adriana K. Maxwell

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #5

She had only agreed to the cat, and that quite reluctantly. She was fond of cats in general, particularly her Siamese, Mojo, after he passed the frantic kitten stage. But this cat-Nal or something-that was a completely different issue. She was cross and ugly, a scraggly orange mess. It was rather a surprise she hadn’t been euthanized already.But the boy had asked so nicely. And she was retired so it wasn’t that much work. By the second day, she was chewing her tongue in frustration. Nali had scratched Mojo,...

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“Beside the Sea (Turtle Whispers)” by Adriana K. Maxwell

Submitted to Contest #4

When he was a young man, a year and 97 days ago, he lived beside the sea. They all did, his mother, his father, and him, up in a tired house that smelled of salt and old nets and home. Every dark morning, he would tramp down, check her hull, test the ropes, and shove off. Then hours throwing the net and hauling it up, looking to see what the sea would let him take. Back to harbor, checking and mending the nets, sorting the fish, and flinging away the seaweed. Finally to market, haggling for the best price, and then h...

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“From A Place That Is Gone” by Adriana K. Maxwell

Submitted to Contest #3

The flowers are gone. The butterfly garden my father and I painted together disappeared the day my home became only a house. Purple coneflowers, black-eyed Susans, blue lupines, daisies, and Queen Anne’s lace and butterflies dancing around my bedroom, all gone. Even my own two little flowers in the corner that I painted with fingers trembling with perfectionism. Daddy says the shadows of the flowers can still be seen through the standard stale gray paint if you look carefully. I miss the happy sunshine yellow. I miss when...

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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