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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2022
Submitted to Contest #195
[This is fiction, but it shows many real stresses teachers face every day. None of the issues are exaggerated.] Amanda glowered. She stared ahead at the green piece of paper on the wall, adorned with the meme of a glamorous woman in oversized sunglasses, hiding her face from a group of paparazzi. The caption – You could’ve been a movie star! If it was ever funny, it’d lost its charm. With its bent, frayed corners, it added to the dull dreariness of her surroundings – the only decoration in a stuffy, windowless room with antique yellow wall...
Submitted to Contest #160
Steam billowed out of the spout of the whistling kettle. Claudius finished spooning tea leaves into the teapot’s basket, then he turned off the gas, picked up the kettle, and carefully poured its boiling contents over the leaves. When he was satisfied, he placed the kettle back onto its burner. Finally, he placed the lid on top of the teapot and carried the tray upon which it rested from the island to the small table five steps away. He glanced at Louisa as he rested the tray on the table, and he smirked. “You haven’t spoken since you walked...
Submitted to Contest #153
“Where is he!” A hulking silhouette appeared in the entrance of the tiny soba shop. A smaller figure rushed over, speaking in hushed, soothing tones. “What do I care, weasley little rodent. Is he here, or isn’t he?” A few more quiet protestations and the brute shoved the smaller man aside. He took a step into the shop and looked around, measuring up each of the patrons before addressing them collectively. “Here’s how this is gonna work,” he said. “One of you is the Marshall. You’re gonna fess up or someone else is gonna rat you out, ‘cause i...
Submitted to Contest #146
[This story contains descriptions of depression and suicidal thoughts] Dear Blake, I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do it. I’ve been with you here before, in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet, holding mom’s bottle of Ambian, and shaking, hesitating…just…just waiting to commit. You’re sad. I know it. Downright despaired! Nobody cares about you enough to notice anything’s wrong. They’re too busy with their own lives to give yours any credence. Honestly, they probably wouldn’t notice you were gone until you started to stink up the pla...
Submitted to Contest #144
Jen breathed in and exhaled halfway, slowly, her finger resting on the shutter-release button. At this distance, at this amount of zoom, even the lens’s vibration reduction would do little to prevent some motion blur. To compensate for her unsteady hand, she set her shutter speed to 1/300. To compensate for the shorter shutter duration, she lowered her f-stop to 5.6 and brought her ISO up to 400. The light meter read dead center. Then she stood still for ten seconds, waiting. She released her breath, lowered the camera, and shook her arms, c...
Submitted to Contest #142
“Firebrand thrust the spade into the dirt and drew his cutlass. ‘Ye’ll dig, ye scurvy dog, or ye’ll answer to the pointed end of me sword.’ “Alban glared at the shovel, his temper boiling, hot as the Caribbean sun beating down upon him. At some unknown depth beneath his feet lay untold fortune – chests filled with gold, jewels, and artifacts that would fetch unheard of prices. But with it came a hefty cost. He who dug up the treasure would face the wrath of Metacoma’s Curse – a long, miserable life of painful, crippling ailments and the der...
Submitted to Contest #141
[The following is a transcript of a portion of episode 487 of Vertigone’s Who The What?! Podcast. For the full feature, go to vertigone.com/WTWpod or wherever you get your podcasts] When I sat down with YouTube sensation Barney, from petrater.com, I wasn’t sure what to expect. His aloof persona, as seen in his hundreds of videos, whose view counts are nearly all above 25 million, has remained surprisingly consistent in the years he’s been making content. In fact, it’s nearly impossible to tell his early videos apart from his recent work. W...
Submitted to Contest #140
“I remember this thing.” Jim chuckled, cradling the Gameboy with both hands. It was smaller than he remembered. As a kid he could barely stretch his thumbs far enough to reach the buttons; now it seemed to fit just right. He flipped it over and saw no game inside. That seemed odd. He couldn’t remember a time when it was empty, even if he hadn’t played it in a while. Had he done that? He flipped open the battery cover and found no batteries inside. Somebody had packed this up, he just couldn’t remember who or why. It was probably his mother. ...
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