Amy Ayres

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

92 karma pts

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“Whatever Happened to Maxwell, Charlie?” by Amy Ayres

Submitted to Contest #81

The third time I saw Max, I heard his laugh for the first time; it came floating through the air until it pounded in my temples and made a breeze flutter through my eyelashes. All of us girls would sit side-by-side on the bleachers. We made a point to share an entire jar of peanut butter and a sleeve of crackers. We would just pass the peanut butter jar from one to the next down the line, absentmindedly. All of the girls were fused to the bleachers, silent, staring, while I would sit there and write. They all had this look on their...

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“Stick a fork in me.” by Amy Ayres

Submitted to Contest #58

I'm done. I can’t do this anymore. I have this feeling like I could eat a thousand meals and still not be full. That everything I do is akin to eating. Everything is the act of putting something savory on my tongue and swallowing it up with my entire body, just to temporarily reach that elusive interminable fix of feeling full. But when I’m not eating, I am always looking for that high. I overachieve at work and thrive on my boss’ approval. I’ll tell a joke at a party just to get that sweet stomach-filling hit of laughter. I even get a ...

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“Never Her Color” by Amy Ayres

Submitted to Contest #47

Five years. That's how long it's been since you've seen any of them.And that is an ugly amount of time to be away from people you once considered your closest friends. They invited you back into the fold again, and you aren’t sure why.So, you took your time when in the past you would have rushed. You would have been sweaty with anxiety and changed three times. You would have second-guessed your makeup, your hair, your entire face, and body and wished you could throw them all away, pull new ones out of your closet and have a do-over.But now, ...

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“Late Afternoon” by Amy Ayres

Submitted to Contest #44

Max came by in the late afternoon, just before dusk and dinner time, a few days after he sent his letter. "Hey, Joanna, some kid out here's lookin’ for a Joanie, is that who you are, today?" Sam shouted to me from the porch as I sat poised on the scarlet-colored antique sofa. "Depends, is the kid's name Max?" I half-joked, but part of me refused to speak to anyone else. "Hang on!" she put her head outside the door again. Her muttered conversation with the unknown was inaudible. She brought her head back inside the door and smiled at me, “Yea...

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