Amy May

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2023

Stories (7)

7 Stories

190 karma pts

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“A cape, a sword and a batmobile ” by Amy May

Submitted to Contest #195

Sigrid opened one blood shot eye and glanced wearily at her monochrome wrist watch. Its small hand tick tick ticking like a time bomb, threatening to detonate her into an explosion of rushed chaos. "Four am, half an hour longer of break time" she thought wearily as she then gazed apprehensively at her turkey and cranberry sandwich she had purchased from the staff room vending machine. Usually she would have demolished it by now, yet this particular early morning she had face planted the staff room table as soon as her aching back...

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“Piña colada puppet ” by Amy May

Submitted to Contest #194

Trigger warning: Contains mentions of adoption and teenage pregnancyReady get set and travel magazine: Article number #23 written by Rosemary Whitsands: It's hardly brain surgery to know that Australia is unique, with its Dingos and gum trees and the famous Scrubby Creek. ...

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“One last eulogy ” by Amy May

Submitted to Contest #194

Trigger warning: Contains contexts of suicide, physical violence, death, and substance abuse 1999 "Hey, back to square one!!!" I whinged, as I threw a board game piece at Harry's eight year old face. We were conversed in a rainy day game of snakes and ladders, yet the only snake i was focused on was my cheating little brother.Monopoly was a much easier game for him to pull the wool over my eyes, he would always demand to be the banker and as i was busy arranging the property card...

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“Madame of ice ” by Amy May

Submitted to Contest #193

Caution: contains contexts of prostitution and sexual references23rd of July 1915" it's the thought that counts." Her Father had tried to teach her this lesson, but it had never sunk in. Growing up in extreme wealth, she had expected the best of everything. So when she was presented with some material item not as spectacular as she had wished for, she would cry and pout like the poor little rich girl she had been. Now the sentence rattled in her brain like a ringing alarm clock. If it was the thought that cou...

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“Young Bobby Brown ” by Amy May

Submitted to Contest #193

There once was a boy named young Bobby Brown, he lived in a shack on the outskirts of town. He lived with a bird and also a dog, he lived with a mouse and a big friendly hog. He had no neighbours and I'll tell you why, his farts were so smelly they made people cry. As well as a rather stinky behind, employment for Bobby was too hard to find.Poor Bobby meant well but he wasn't so bright, every job he attempted he couldn't do right. Old farmer Macbernum once gave him a job to shear all the sheep but Bobby sheared all th...

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“Under the debris ” by Amy May

Submitted to Contest #192

Trepidation swarmed over her body like a hive of killer wasps. " Just one more little step" her logical mind whispered to her soothingly " You can do this, you've already survived so much!!". That one little step would take her back in time yet at that same moment would slap her metaphorical face with the harsh reality of the present moment. She hadn't been back to this house since her childhood and with this long awaited reuinion there was also longing of what could have been. As her size 6 Adidas sneakers stepped over the threshold and ...

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“Under the cherry blossom” by Amy May

Submitted to Contest #191

(Sensitive content: Contains mentions of substance abuse, suicide and mental health) She will never forget the day her world changed forever. It had happened on a warm spring day as she was on her way to the hospital to pick up the methadone that stopped her from pummelling back into her painkiller addiction. She trudged along dragging her feet, too self absorbed to lift her face and look out at the beau...

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Author bio

I am a brand new writer, learning more each time I write. I am 34 but seem so much younger even though I've been through a lot. From the chaotic never ending cycle of self harm and suicide attempts, I finally stalled the merry go round of despair and set it alight. Like a phoenix I rose from the ashes and with my charred tattered wings I choose to soar. I joined this site so I can soar the new heights my wings may take me hoping that I can paint my experiences with my words onto a brand new canvas.