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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020
Submitted to Contest #52
VE Day 1945, EnglandJust visible on the eastern horizon, the sun rose in a glorious explosion of pink and gold, the morning light stroking the hedges and dew-soaked leaves. Pippa watched from her bedroom window as the streets of London were washed in a ghostly, silver light, emanating an almost ethereal glow. London – what had once been a colourful, cosmopolitan city dotted with street markets filling the air with amazing smells, was now a ghost town of deserted houses, crawling with mould and damp. She gazed around her own home, where ivy c...
Submitted to Contest #51
I hate watching the news. Every single night, the battered little box flickers on for the daily broadcast at 8pm. It’s hard to watch when all that the perfectly preened presenter drones on about is the demolition of the hate group, Zerex. It’s even harder to watch it when I used to be part of the same group. It wasn’t even my choice: I didn’t ask to be born to two brainwashed adults, who also happened to be part of the founders. The box roars to life now, as the screechy music fills the room accompanied by dramatic bangs as the newsca...
Submitted to Contest #49
I can’t play the waiting game anymore. I can’t get through another day. The clock on the kitchen wall stares at me, blank-faced, as I watch its slender hands gently tick past. The sink cluttered with dirty dishes and remnants of last week’s dinner screams at me, begging me to stand up for once and get my act together. But their cries fall on deaf ears. Every morning, I make myself a cup of watered-down coffee, and then perching on my stool, I watch the hours drift away. I ignore the buzzing of my phone when I see the contacts of family and f...
Submitted to Contest #47
Rays of sun stream in through the windows and delicately brush against your face. You flip the pillow over to the cold side, desperate for a few more minutes of sleep. The honking of horns and squealing of tires ring through your ears and you finally push away the duvet covers to place your feet on the floor. The sharp iciness of the wood springs your eyes open and you tiptoe over to the mirror. Every morning, when you first glance at it, you see a little piece of advice for the day. Yesterday it was ‘take the train home’, which saved you fr...
Submitted to Contest #46
Day 1 Jason seems like a very sweet boy. I watch him now through the clouds, as he whips through the market, glancing back every few seconds at the man following him. He disappears into an alleyway and shrinks down behind the huge sacks of flour. I shake my head in disbelief; what a pathetic place to hide. The man inches closer and Jason buries his head into his knees - stealing is a crime punishable by death. But Jason does not have to worry about meeting my good friend yet. I pick up my pen and head to the library, scanning the dozens of g...
Submitted to Contest #44
The cock of the gun. His eyes begging for mercy. My screams. The two shots fired. In less than sixty seconds, my life was turned upside down. In less than sixty seconds, another life was ended.In less than sixty seconds, another black life was ended. My brother and I were closer than you could ever imagine. We laughed, cried and argued together but when the day came to an end, we always had each other. We were so close, that it felt like we were related by blood, even though that was not the case. When my parents first brought him home,...
Submitted to Contest #43
He watches the girl sit on the swing, like a broken doll gently swaying. Her legs dangle and the wind playfully flings around her auburn tresses. She is not like the other children who were here before: their laughter rang in the air and their cries tumbled down the hills. But she does not do that; she neither laughs nor cries. In fact, he struggles to think of what else she does, apart from sit on her swing. He is lost in a world of thought when a high-pitched squeal brings him back to reality – the girl cowers behind a tree, her white knuc...
Submitted to Contest #42
It was a gorgeous summer’s evening when I met him. They always warned us about the river; how bad things happened there, how the man would find you and once he did there was no coming back – silly rumours. Under the lemon tree, you could not be harmed. Zico told me that.He told me stories that carried me to different lands: of undying love and heartbreak, of war and sacrifice. In return, I was his eyes. I told him how the prickle of heat on the nape of his neck was red. How the spray of water from the river that formed droplets against his f...
Submitted to Contest #40
SofiaHe lays on the floor, slumped over like a broken doll. Foam froths on his lips and he makes deafening, gurgling noises; one last attempt to breathe in air. I was rooted to the spot. The revolver slowly inches out of my sweaty palms, and smacks onto the marble floor. This isn’t me. This isn’t my life. I’m a florist, with a very successful business and a friend whom I would die for, Keres. Each morning I wake up at 4:30 am for the flowers from Joseph’s farm to be dropped off and I then pick the most wilted ones and start to make my c...
Submitted to Contest #39
The flecks of white in the sky shone like tiny beacons of hope - that was something I really needed now. Hope. It has been 42 days. 42 days since I’ve lain in this hospital bed, gazing at the same stars every night. And if you asked me what plans I had for my future, I would say, to lie in this hospital bed and look at the stars. That’s the thing about cancer. It brings your life to a screeching halt. In fact, you stop having a life. I gave up the day I was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer.I still remember that day. I entered the hospital ...
Submitted to Contest #38
The wind gently tapped at the window panes, chinks of light streaming in through the freshly polished glass.Anna gazed at the battered, case in front of her. The same battered case that had once been her world; that had once pushed her to perform on the biggest stages in front of hundreds of blurry, unknown faces. But she had failed. She had let the fame get to her head. She knew that now. She unzipped the case. Holding her breath, she carefully opened the lid, half expecting dazzling rays of gold to emit from within, blinding her. Like in a...
Submitted to Contest #37
3 days before...Every nerve in her body warned her not to go further. As the blood pounded in her temples, her wide eyes strained to pierce the darkness ; all her senses were alert.And then it happened.She flung her head back but it was too late - her mouth was contorted in a scream that never came.The blood flowed like crimson ribbons, snaking through the gaps in her fingers, splattering the ground beneath her.The black pools of her eyes were gone.Present Day...The hum of the school bus engine penetrated the deafening silence of the woods. ...
Submitted to Contest #36
Dear Diary,I'm finally ready. Today is the day where I will leave behind everything I have ever known : my friends, my life... and my grandma. She has been ever so supportive of my desire to find my mother and she constantly tells me to follow my heart ; but I am worried about her. I was only at the tender age of three, when I was left on her doorstep, but she took me in and cared for me like her own child. There is a voice in my head that is telling me that I am doing the wrong thing , urging me, pleading me not to follow in my mother's foo...
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