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Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2023
Submitted to Contest #264
The story has slight nudity and mention of drowning. If this triggers you, my story may not be for you. He couldn't say the words. Sure, he loved her, but he couldn't, wouldn't say it. She cared for him and felt she could live the rest of her days with him. They had met in 2005, so now, two years later, Tamra wondered why Todd never said, "I love you" back to her. 1995 RaeLynn sat in the passenger seat, and Todd sped around the curves of the country gravel road. The convertible's roof was down, her ponytail blew back in the wind, and the d...
Submitted to Contest #230
Kyra dialed Amy’s number. “Mom? Is something wrong? It is two a.m.” Kyra looked at the clock. “Oh, sorry, Honey. I couldn’t sleep. I reviewed the keys on my ring, and you are right. I don’t need them.” “Mom, can we talk about this in the morning?” ** “What is this to?” “The house on 41st street.” “You haven’t lived there for twelve years. Why is it on your key ring?” Kyra stares out the window. Amy continues, “Ma, this blue key?” “Huh?” “Blue key, Ma. What’s it open?” “The garage on 41st street.” Amy slides those two off the ring. Amy spin...
This is a work of fiction based on real events, and the characters are made up of conglomerations of several people. There are references to some sexual acts which may be offensive to some. Vonnie met new women by joining the book club in her new town. Mary – ah, memorable Mary who turned thirty-eight when Vonnie was twenty-six. The book club was at Mary’s house on that birthday. Mary opened the door, welcoming everyone, with “Come in! Let’s hurry with the discussion because today I am thirty-eight. I’m told this is my sexual peak, and ...
Submitted to Contest #227
She died. Eleven months ago, their identical sister Lynn died. Our fraternal brother, Louis, fell into a deep depression and only came out of it after doing a psilocybin retreat in the Netherlands, followed by intense psychotherapy in Munich, Germany. Lydia hadn't heard from Lou, but to be fair, no one had heard from Lydia. The torn-asunder Whitlock triplets had gone awry. Jimmy, Lydia's spouse of four years, didn't hear from her either. Through the closed door, he shouts, "Lydia, can I come in?" Sometimes, it's, "Lydia, are you sl...
Submitted to Contest #225
2001 *** I had passed the boutique antique store many times and decided to go inside today. A bell above the door notified the store owner someone had entered and greeted me. “Please let me know if I can answer questions or show you anything. I’ll be over in the corner pricing some items if you need help.” Smiling, I said, “My name is Sabrina,” to which she replied, “I’m Rhonda Simpson, the shop proprietor.” We shook hands, and I began browsing. My years as a criminal detective had created a detail monster in my head. I approached e...
Submitted to Contest #224
“Hello again, Troy. I trust you rested well. End of the week again – yay, Friday, right?” Amelia was chatty in the morning, being a morning person. Troy grumbled, waved his hand in a Miss America-style wave, and slipped past her on his way in. “Geesh, a bit grumpy, are we?” she called out to him. Amelia strode onto the avenue, wending between commuters and street vendors. Selecting a handful of flowers, she dropped a five-dollar bill into the jar and continued, passing a homeless woman who slept on the bus stop bench, wrapped in ...
Submitted to Contest #222
“Line up! Bow!” I say the commands sharply, and as she bows, I do too, hands in fists, one holding the other, then slap my hands to my sides in attention. “Always keep your eyes on your opponent, even when bowing,” I tell her. “Run through your katas and give me your best.” Circling her, I watch, correcting her punches lining up her feet, hips, and shoulders. “When you do your kiai, I should be able to punch you in the stomach and not push you back or hurt you,” I explained. “Ready?” I watch as she drops into a horse sta...
Submitted to Contest #221
Reginald absolutely hated it when Marie walked through him. She scatters his ethereal outline when she decides to enter the room while he is standing in the doorway. Doesn’t she realize it actually discombobulates my aura? I think she takes great glee in it! “Dammit, Reggie, get out of my way!” Ghosts block my path all the time, she mumbles to herself. The crystal pendants on the chandelier begin shaking. “Reggie, stop it. I don’t want crystals falling and denting the table. STOP!” Reggie heeds her shouting...
Submitted to Contest #220
I’m screaming in between the cracks of thunder and flashes of lightning. Spears of fire are hitting the ground in rapid staccato strikes and split an Elm tree nearby. Lightning hits the edge of the bank and the creaky metal bridge. One strike lands in the river, sending an electrical current through the water and into a metal girder of the bridge. I can hear the hissing; the electrical current moves like an arrow, the steel brightening like a branding iron. I am sobbing, hugging my knees, totally immobile from fright...
Submitted to Contest #218
Fresh popcorn aromas taunt me; the back of my throat fills with its taste; my tongue rolls inside my mouth against the cheeks, the roof, and over my teeth, all of which have become sloppy and wet with saliva. Nostrils flaring, I purchase my movie ticket and rush to the concession stand, above which is a hand-drawn flyer: “Only REAL butter served here.” The volunteer behind the concessions counter, an older gentleman, smiles broadly and asks what&...
Submitted to Contest #216
This story briefly talks about euthanasia. "You can't always do peanut butter cookies, Charly! This is for the holiday cookie exchange. The cookies should be festive and creatively decorated," Mary instructed. "Making six dozen cookies is exhausting. It takes me all weekend. I am not about to stand all day in my kitchen rolling out cookies, cutting them, baking, and icing or decorating with sugar sprinkles. It's too much. Bar cookies are what I will make, or little ball cookies in powdered sugar. Take it or leave it! YOU can be Mar...
Submitted to Contest #213
“Simone, what do you think of this line?” He looks up and down the grocery aisle but can't find it. “Gerrie, I don’t like it.” “All right, tell me how to fix it. I don’t like it when you answer without giving a suggestion.” “Gerrie, you asked me what I thought of it and did not ask me to offer suggestions. Since you have asked, my suggestion is that you show action.” “So, maybe it should read: He sees cans of soup and vegetables. At the end of the grocery aisle, he still does not find the noodles. Do you mean lik...
Submitted to Contest #212
Day five, January 18, 1964 – Alaska or Bust Dear Mom (and Dad), We are somewhere in the Yukon, driving day and night. You disapprove of this move, especially driving to Alaska, but please know we will be okay. It’s an adventure for this Midwest girl! The studded snow tires grip the road well (usually). Picture this, Dad – we tied our old waterbed frame to the roof of the van, placed our boxed belongings into the frame, covered it with tarps, and tied it down with heavy straps. Along the road or when stopping for fue...
Submitted to Contest #204
The shiny Studebaker Avanti cruised along the two-lane highway passing corn fields of various heights. The corn should be knee-high by the 4th of July, his farm cousin Cate told him years ago during a visit. Vic slowed down behind a slow-moving farm tractor, not feeling any need to pass. A sign reading Fresh Watermelon ByTheSlice made his mouth water, his throat constricting some, urging him to pull over for a slice. His eyes roved ahead for the turn to the fruit stand and discovered it too late. "Damn! OK, a U-ey it is!" Dimples dented...
Submitted to Contest #200
Like every warm day, Terrence is finishing this day on his L-shaped porch, sipping whisky from a dented flask. Cars pass by slowly, and he watches young women pushing babies in strollers; he hears the neighbors' arguments and knows which have a regular income and those who are unemployed. Terrence is the self-appointed block mayor, laying judgment on his fellow folk. "Hi, Terrence; how are you this fine sunny day?" Terrence sits up straight, wanting to give a good impression. "I am superb, Miss Myrna, thank you. And yourself?" He...
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