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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2025
Submitted to Contest #311
The sky rained feathers the day the angels decided to quit.It wasn’t gradual, like a fading light or a whisper slipping into wind. It was sudden, vast, final. At 4:17 p.m. Zagreb time, the clouds opened — not with thunder, not with fire, but with a hush. A hush so deep it silenced traffic, halted footsteps, and left a little girl holding her mother’s hand at the tram station, blinking at the first white feather that drifted down onto her outstretched palm.Then another.And another.And then it was a blizzard of softness, a snowfall of resignat...
The first time Paula met Miro, he was throwing breadcrumbs to pigeons like a pensioner auditioning for sainthood. He wasn't a saint, not even close. He was barefoot, sunburned, and had a face that looked like it had been both kissed and punched by life.She had just sat on the stone bench outside the Franciscan Monastery in Dubrovnik, where the sea wind smelled of rosemary and tourists, and a cat was trying to unzip her backpack."Careful," Miro said, pointing at the feline thief, "that one took my last sandwich yesterday. Prosciutto and all. ...
Submitted to Contest #310
It was the kind of story she never meant to tell—let alone publish.When Petra Barić uploaded the manuscript to Amazon KDP late one sleepless night, she assumed no one would read it. She even used a pseudonym—"Mira Dalma," a name that held just enough shadow to comfort her. The book's cover was an abstract blur of sea green and rust red, a template she'd tweaked half-heartedly. The blurb was vague, poetic, promising introspection and mystery, revealing nothing of its actual content.And that content was… raw."The Cypress Manuscript" was never ...
The midday sun scorched the ancient stones of Dubrovnik's Old Town as Eva Perković dragged her suitcase down a narrow alleyway off Stradun. Her sandals slapped against uneven flagstones, her shoulder ached from her laptop bag, and sweat rolled freely down her back."This is it," she muttered to herself, stopping in front of a modest stone building with wooden shutters painted sea blue.It had taken her years — and the complete meltdown of her life — to get here.Once a rising star in the Croatian literary world, Eva had published a debut novel ...
Submitted to Contest #309
The sun was dipping low over the Adriatic, its last amber rays scattering like brittle shards of glass across the water. In Cavtat, the small Dalmatian town where time often felt like it was folding over itself, Lara stood at the edge of the old stone pier, watching the sea swallow the horizon. The scent of salt and pine was heavy in the air, but inside her, an emptiness echoed louder than the waves crashing against the shore.Her fingers clutched the thin silver chain around her neck, cold against her skin. It was the only thing she had left...
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