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Amaranthine Sky

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020

Stories (4)

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58 Followers

20 Following

4 Stories

171 karma pts

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Yugen Phoenix

Amaranthine Sky

Submitted to Contest #103

My last battle is on a field charred with ash, scars, blood, and regrets. Dust swirls in mini tornados at my ankles, rising to my knees. To glory. I heft my sword and stare off into the last standing regiment. They know nothing of me, and I know nothing of myself. Crack. Someone’s ax grinds the soil and we begin, me against them, the world’s pitfalls, my trampoline to bounce off of. I’ve stopped bothering with the blood against my sword, swiping here and there and everywhere. Bodies begin piling before me. But it’s too late to care. It’...

20 likes

Soul

Amaranthine Sky

Submitted to Contest #101

Trigger Warning: mentions of suicide Does anybody truly hear me in this vast, vast multiverse? I blink, breathe, shudder, exhale. It is my second day. Hello, can you hear me? Nod, nod slowly. I can speak if I want to, but even that, I know, is impossible. I’m not supposed to be able to speak. I don’t want to be able to know I have the power to speak. I don’t know why I thought it’d be different with me, that the fibers of my existence could latch onto whatever came beyond. But that isn’t allowed anymore. You’re not ...

13 likes

Made of the Gray

Amaranthine Sky

Submitted to Contest #99

The Earth was spinning wildly around a coverlet of gold fastened tight into a ball, whirling while I gasped under the sweat-soaked covers, light flowing through my room. Before I knew it, I was back outside, drifting among banked seaweed and other paraphernalia—which was a better word for litter on the otherwise sandy beach shores.Had my body really kicked back the sparse bedding and knocked books aside, all in preparation for a walk on the beach? If I knew someone worth my time, I’d imagine they’d call me something along the lines of sadist...

11 likes

Ink Form

Amaranthine Sky

Submitted to Contest #96

My arms were sore beyond repair or consolation. Particularly my left arm did flip-flops as if it had no bones, or all of the bones were still there but broken. At least I wouldn’t have to pick up a pencil to write again. I had stopped writing against creased notebook paper a while back because everything was already behind a screen, and even though I was hunched over a desktop for two hours, it didn’t spatter my ink with tears. Paper did. At least my fingers weren’t sore, so I could type isolated letters on a keyboard. Aren’t I a lucky one?&...

19 likes