Annabella Bones

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2022

Stories (8)

8 Stories

201 karma pts

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“My Mother's Mother” by Annabella Bones

Submitted to Contest #213

If anything could be learned from the tragedy that day, it was that Fate spares no opportunity to deliver life’s greatest twists. “Silver Bullet” is what we named our 8-month-old SUV, folded like a tin can crushed around a pine tree where Sherwood Road meets Bangle Street two blocks from home. Blinding sheets of rain did little to chase away the smoke or noxious fumes. The acrid smell of burnt tread carri...

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“Dear Elizabeth” by Annabella Bones

Submitted to Contest #212

“Don’t touch things that don’t belong to you.” That’s what Grandma would say just before popping her wooden spoon across the tops of my hands. Despite the redness and occasional bruise, it didn’t hurt much. But this— two decades later— hurt like hell. I’ve always been lazy when it comes to checking the mail, especially in summertime. Something about that half-acre walk down the driveway was more of a turn...

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“Allie's Hero” by Annabella Bones

Submitted to Contest #193

I always knew I was destined to be with Allie. Allie Hanover was the dream girl of Shelton High. She was the whole package. Rich cinnamon eyes and big curly hair as red as a summer evening sunset. She had the velvet voice of Judy Garland and legs like Betty Grable. She was both hard and soft, athletic and petite. From the gym floor to senior prom, she gave the boys a run for their money. All the girls hated her as much a...

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“The Treasure of Ladora Shores” by Annabella Bones

Submitted to Contest #185

With only two exceptions, the unexpected encounter with a basilisk guarding the riverfront, and fighting against playful water nymphs determined to drag me to a watery grave, crossing the Lorelai River was the easy part. Orphans, like me, who are mistakenly left at the doorstep of a covenant rather than a convent at 6 years old and, subsequently, raised by 18 witches, don’t scare easily. Most orphans, however, have never...

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“Lucky” by Annabella Bones

Submitted to Contest #182

The alarm wailed throughout the house. Having been tucked in for the night reading by lamplight, I had nearly jumped out of my skin, it startled me so. In my nightrobe, I scrambled out of bed and shot like a bullet down the hall. The white paneled door ornated in cut-out stars and construction paper rainbows was still closed. “Lucky, stay in your room!” I shouted to my little girl, Rebecca, on the other side, knowing she...

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“A Token of Fate” by Annabella Bones

Submitted to Contest #180

Kenneth Andrews stood from his leather-bound seat and cleared his throat. “I would like to call the defendant, Calvin Brown, to the stand.” His request was met with the quiet rustling of shifting bodies in creaky hardwood seats as the gallery spectators anxiously watched the boy approach the stand in silence. Oily blonde shoulder-length hair covered most of his face as long as he kept his head down. Lo...

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“Gas, Gripes and Gratefulness” by Annabella Bones

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #173

“I ain’t working Christmas Eve. I’ll walk out!” Linda took a long slow drag off her Strawberry Vanilla vape and exhaled dramatically. “Are you smoking again?” Toni asked, her voice intermittently fading, just strong enough to push through the weak signal. “Vaping,” Linda answered. “Since Jordan was diagnosed with asthma last month. I swear it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done but, what can you do?” Her lips tugg...

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“Black Moss Bridge” by Annabella Bones

Submitted to Contest #171

Tommy knew they’d be waiting to jump him where Odessa Drive meets Skylark. They had told him so just after 4th period before shoving his small body into his locker and securing the padlock. Mike Tanner, Billy Langley and that tall fat kid who transferred from Spencer before summer break. The Soldier War Boys, they called themselves. They laughed to the end of the hall. Only when the echoes of their laughter fa...

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Author bio

Writing has been my sanctuary since childhood. It has been my warm hot tub after a long work stretch. It has been my therapy after emotional trauma. But the words I've written over the years have amount to no more than scenes. Folders upon folders of scenes eating up my thumb drives. I am ready to pursue my dreams and turn those words-- those scenes-- into stories. These are my first sea-leg steps.

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #173

Gas, Gripes and Gratefulness – read story