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Annalisa McMorrow

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2025

Stories (14)
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14 Stories

586 karma pts

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There was no two-night stand

Submitted to Contest #314

Sleep and I? We’ve never been on friendly terms. In fact, sleep treats me as if I owe him money. Or I did it with his girlfriend. Sleep treats me like he’s a bartender and I’ve overstayed my welcome. "You don't have to go home, but you can’t sleep here.” I can’t sleep, and this means that in every city I’ve ever lived in, I know what goes on at night. I know who is up and who is down and which corners of the darkness are safe and which are trouble. I know who I can call and who will be annoyed if I wake them up at all hours. I know what dawn...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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Tiger Lady

Submitted to Contest #313

We’d only met the one time. After years of semi knowing each other in the way that the internet allows people to semi know each other. Like, you're not sure if you should call the people who live in the box or your phone your friend or not. Would they be there for you in real life? People who are only available with an emoji or a meme, who can silence you with a button or send you to voicemail. Who leave you on “seen.” We met the one time, at a coffee shop, and we were polite and Ms. Manners would have nodded from her perch above and said, "...

17 likes 3 comments 3
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kisses are kisses and coffee is coffee

Submitted to Contest #313

The kiss was like rose petals dappled with dew. Except it wasn’t. Because kisses aren’t like that. Kisses are like nothing you can describe with flowers. His kiss was dark-roasted coffee on a cold morning, a sensation that drives the bad dreams away and sets you up for a new day. Except kisses are kisses and coffee is coffee. His kiss was warm laundry fresh out of the dryer. The fleeting scent of a candle right when you blow it out. Sparklers on the Fourth of July. Frost on the windowsill. And all of that is wrong. Poets want the kiss to be ...

9 likes 0 comments 0
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If I Had a Heart to Beat

Submitted to Contest #312

I know he’s seeing someone else. Don't tell me he’s not. Don’t say I’m imagining things. The worst response to offer in a situation like this is to gaslight the wife. And okay, sure, fine. I’m not officially his wife. Not technically. We didn’t stand up in front of god and everyone and say our vows, but I like to think I came close. Maybe, I should have been prepared for this. The world is a quickly changing place after all.What’s popular one day is out-of-style the next, and with built-in obsolescence it’s anyone’s guess what (or who) is no...

15 likes 5 comments 5
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"There is only nope."

Submitted to Contest #312

“Please answer questions as completely as possible. Do not use one-word replies. Be clear and concise. Avoid hyperbole and idioms.” That’s what the initial email had said. Along with the rest of the fine print about payments and a privacy form she had to sign with her name between two // which she was pretty sure wouldn’t hold up in court. It had taken a lot for her to get here. Long, lonely nights. Days that passed like a blur. Even when she drank too much java, she fought a lack-of-caffeine headache that never left. Her life sometimes felt...

11 likes 1 comment 1
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Found and Lost

Submitted to Contest #311

You would think they would be back. You would think that the people who leave their: discarded futurebroken heartkeys to locks that no longer open safety deposit boxes that don’t exist… … you’d think they would be back. But humans are confusing. Americans spent $2.5 billion replacing lost items each year and 2.5 days a year looking for things they’ve misplaced. One can almost feel the longing. The yearning. The missing what they once had. Sunglasses. Wallets. Cellphones. You name an item, and someone has left it on our counter. Keys. Coffee ...

12 likes 5 comments 5
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I’m the Cherry Pie

Submitted to Contest #311

It’s a 24/7 diner. It’s a fantasy. It’s a truck stop. I’m a customer. I'm a waitress. I’m the cherry pie. I’ve been writing at night, every night, at the Lonesome Diner for more years than I can remember. The line cooks know my name. My booth is the one in the far corner. Nobody ever sits there but me. I don't know how that happened exactly. There isn’t a plaque above the salt and pepper. But it’s my booth. Everyone knows that. On their breaks, or when the flow of the kitchen eases to a dribble, the waitresses sit across from me and tell me...

25 likes 12 comments 12
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Barney in the Rubble

Winner of Contest #309 🏆

The first time they bumped into each other, she was holding a bouquet, and he was giving a bride away. She could feel him looking at her, and she blushed the same color as her peonies and tried not to smile more than the beatific Mona Lisa half-grin she’d had plastered on her face all morning. She'd smiled so much her face hurt. She couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room and drink alcohol from tiny bottles and frown at her reflection in the mirror in order to flex the overworked muscles in the opposite direction. It’s never appropriate ...

114 likes 81 comments 81
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Death Becomes You

Submitted to Contest #309

People often say, “Do I know you?” without realizing they’ve known me forever. It can get a little boring, if I’m being honest here. I wish sometime, someone would look up from their deathbed say, “Oh, honey, it’s you.” Or “I missed you, babe.” Or “Looking good, old chap.” But no. Never. It’s always: “Do I know you?” before, well, before rigor mortis sets in. What would I say if I had the time to respond? I actually do have the time. It’s them who have run out the clock. But what would I say if we were having a conversation over a Stella Ar...

17 likes 9 comments 9
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What They Don't Tell You

Submitted to Contest #308

When you’re young, they don’t tell you what’s going to be important to you in the future. They don’t say, “Keep your rock polishing kit, kid, because when you’re forty-seven, you’ll wish you hadn’t sold it for a quarter at a tag sale.” They don’t say, “You know that gaggle of misfits who you hung out with every day of summer, you’ll never have friends like that again.” And they don’t say, “Enjoy your summers, every second of your summers, because at some point, summer is just a word. It’s no longer a feeling. It’s no longer a sensation.” May...

16 likes 12 comments 12
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Life is But a Joke

Submitted to Contest #308

Sleeping in a crypt isn’t as comfortable as one might believe. But it helps if you’re already dead. Jones had never given much thought to what went on in graveyards before dying. He’d tried to avoid them, if he were going to be totally honest here. He’d played sick when the only boss who had ever been kind to him passed away unexpectedly. Had even missed his mother’s funeral, although the rest of the family had never forgiven him for that one. He hoped she had. Jones would have said, if you were buying him a beer at your local, that life had...

15 likes 4 comments 4
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Oh, but what a kiss

Submitted to Contest #308

“It was all just a dream.” The class tittered as the professor said the words in a sing-song tone and then wrote the phrase on the board. He took his time, and he underlined the sentence using ochre-colored chalk. “Say these words aloud with me,” Professor Johnson instructed. The class echoed as one: “It was all just a dream.” “Louder,” he demanded. He was charismatic. Crazy white hair. Mismatched socks. He liked call-and-responses in his classroom. Once he’d stood on his head to make a point about editing. “IT WAS ALL JUST A DREAM!” the stu...

19 likes 10 comments 10
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Other People

Submitted to Contest #306

Text from John (2:03 a.m.): I think we should see other people.Steph: That’s great! I’m so glad you think that. This takes such a load off my shoulders. Whew! (sweating emoji)John: Wait, what?Steph: I cannot tell you how grateful I am for you to say that. You're making my life so much easier.John: How exactly?Steph: I was going to say the same thing. I’d been practicing in the mirror, even. It hadn’t occurred to me to approach a topic like this via text. But I had even used chatGPT to see what the best verbiage would be. Still, I think it’s ...

8 likes 5 comments 5
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The Very Best Meal I Ever Ate In LA

Shortlisted for Contest #306 ⭐️

Los Angeles is a foodie’s haven. Mecca for anyone with a gold-plated tongue and diamond-dusted tastebuds. The choices are beyond abundant and available around the clock. Whether you crave comfort food, the elegance of fine-dining, or the thrilling adventure of a vegan kosher taco truck, LA has got you covered. I lived in the City of Angels for a decade, and while I was spoiled by all sorts of gourmet experiences, here is my recipe for the best meal I ever ate. What you will need:basil (freshly plucked from my friend Mick’s backyard)cherry to...

29 likes 21 comments 21
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