Amy St. pierre

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

Stories (18)

18 Stories

1056 karma pts

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“Realistic Fiction” by Amy St. pierre

The window was drafty. It needed to be replaced, and I could feel the cold chill of December seeping into the apartment. As if on cue, I heard the heat click on, roiling through the baseboards.           I pulled my husband’s old gray hoodie tighter around my body. On me, the sweatshirt was hugely oversized, more like wearing a blankety dress than a zip up hoodie. But it was warm and thick and it reminded me that he was still here, if not literally here right at this moment, bu...

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“Illicit” by Amy St. pierre

Her suitcase was open. Clothes were strewn everywhere.          What would she need? What was the weather like in Minnesota in the fall? It would be cold, right? So that meant sweaters, hoodies, jeans, and probably coats and hats and mittens and long underwear. Did she even own long underwear? Probably not. If she did, they’d been thrown away or donated a long time ago.          She glanced at the clock. De...

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“Irreconcilable Differences” by Amy St. pierre

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Logan asked, pen poised above the sheet of paper that he was about to sign.              “Yes,” Kate replied. She stood leaning against the counter, arms crossed over her chest.              Her eyes fixated on the Trump 2020 banner hanging outside the house, blowing lightly in the breeze. She’d never been more sure of anything.*“Don’t ...

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“Good Night” by Amy St. pierre

The day had been unseasonably warm for October, but the night air was cold. I put on extra thick socks and my coziest hoodie, and I packed two extra blankets with my sleeping bag. Then I watched outside from my bedroom window, peering outside through the blinds, waiting for the flash of headlights coming down the road. Moments later, Jade pulled up outside my mother’s house. She was driving her mother’s old bla...

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“Honest” by Amy St. pierre

Author’s note: This is a follow up to my short story At Home, submitted in December 2019. On Saturday morning, Haley took extra time in the shower. She shaved her legs and underarms, she used the vanilla scented soap that she knew Ben liked, she conditioned her hair. It had been months since she’d taken more than a quick five minute shower before getting back to Ava, their two-year-old d...

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“Written in the Stars” by Amy St. pierre

The man I’d once believed was my soulmate was moving into the apartment below mine. If the circumstances had been wildly different, this would’ve been exciting – I’d drop my popsicle on the deck, throw a t-shirt on over my bathing suit, rush down the stairs of my deck to greet him, and throw my arms around him, like a long lost lover, or a reunion, the great love of my life I thought I’d lost forever. But the circumstances weren’t different, they were what they were, and presently he was moving boxes into the apartment with his wife and y...

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“Cost of Living” by Amy St. pierre

Sitting in the conference room, Becca hadn’t felt this nervous since the day she’d interviewed for this job three years ago. Back then, she had been a blissfully ignorant 22-year-old recent college graduate with no clue what she wanted to do with her life, other than to successfully get a real full time job and move out of her bedroom in her parents’ house. Their boring suburban life was killing her soul slowly, she was ...

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“Fine” by Amy St. pierre

As Kelsey sat next to Ron in the waiting room, she couldn’t stop thinking about their last session.            “No,” Ron had finally admitted to her. “I’m not attracted to you anymore.”            Kelsey had felt her eyes immediately well up with tears. Dr. Davis looked on quietly, not interrupting this long awaited moment in which Ron finally told her the truth. It had been weeks of this – sitting in Dr. D...

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“Comics” by Amy St. pierre

Our first date, if you could call it that, was at a casino. Not normally my kind of place, I found the thick, smoky air and old folks dragging around their oxygen tanks to be depressing, but he said that he worked there as a third shift security guard, and I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. The idea of going to a real sitdown restaurant for a first date filled me with dread, unable to handle how awkward it would be...

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“Vapid” by Amy St. pierre

In a family of activists, being the one who stayed home, who didn’t make signs and stand outside the state house and walk in marches and participate in protests, was like having a spotlight on you. You were the one who was careless and flippant, the one who was too dumb to watch the news and actually be able to understand and process what was happening.           The world was changing, I knew that, but I was also hyperaware of my powerlessness. I knew that standing outside the...

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“Cruel World” by Amy St. pierre

“I’m sorry,” said Lana. We were sitting at the kitchen table, which felt oddly formal for two people who normally ate dinner in front of the TV. All of the other rooms in the house were dark. The kitchen light was bright, old, and yellow, and it made me feel like I should’ve been in a musty basement instead of our luxury apartment. I wasn't surprised by the results. He’d never looked like me. “Who’s is he?” I asked quietly, actively forcing myself to not grit my teeth. Lana said nothing. She looked at me with b...

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“Pepsi” by Amy St. pierre

Tara wanted to leave Ingrid’s party before she’d even arrived. She knew that Ingrid’s tiny house would be hot and crowded, she knew that Ingrid would be the only person there she knew, and she knew that everyone would be piss drunk by ten o’clock at the latest. She didn’t drink, which meant that she was always the only sober person at parties. She never said why she didn’t drink, instead she let her friends, and friends of friends, and acquaintances think she was dull so that she didn’t have to talk about her father's struggles with alcoh...

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“Rum & Coke” by Amy St. pierre

I stood alone in an empty apartment. Actually, it was my apartment now, but my brain hadn’t absorbed that part yet. I don’t even remember signing the lease.The floors of the apartment were scuffed hardwood. I was one of many tenants who had walked on these floors over the years, and it showed. I had no furniture, so my steps echoed throughout the apartment. I’d been mumbling to myself under my breath, talking myself into my life, and I stopped because hearing my own voice repeating in the empty rooms was too strange and jarring. Th...

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“At Home” by Amy St. pierre

As usual, Ben’s alarm woke Haley when it went off at 5:30am. She didn’t move, but she felt him sliding out of bed, trying to be quiet but failing miserably. She heard him use the bathroom, then come back into the bedroom, open his dresser drawers, put on his gym clothes, and leave. Haley’s mood moved quickly from annoyed to envious. She missed those days – the early morning wake ups, the tough workouts, the sweaty Spin classes, the delayed onset muscle soreness she felt in her body the day after she increased weight on her lifts. Mostly, ...

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“Ice” by Amy St. pierre

It had been exactly eleven months, one week, and two days since I’d been inside an ice rink.           The rink was the same. It smelled the same, like zamboni fumes and cold. Public skating had just ended, and the same parents wrangled their kids out of their skates and back into their street shoes, pulling off their winter hats and helmets and gloves and knee pads, wiping their runny noses with Kleenex. The same kids I used to skate with worked at the snack bar, dropping pack...

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Author bio

Looking to get involved in a collaborative writing project of some sort. Open to any and all ideas.

Winning stories 🏆

Contest #2
Kids – read story
Contest #20
At Home – read story