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April Mattson

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2022

Stories (12)

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17 Followers

1 Following

12 Stories

292 karma pts

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The Subversively Mild-Mannered Mr. Hancock

Submitted to Contest #307

Paul Hancock had been a high school teacher for nine years. Within that time, his experience had been fairly uneventful in the way that being a teacher was like running a race with someone firing off the starting gun and then pointing it at your back with intermittent collapses called summer. Certainly some moments- which, in looking back, moments could be captured as weeks or even months- there had been times of disenchantment, wherein he’d been assigned a particularly loud lunch duty, or suffered an aggravating team member or just had an e...

3 likes

How to Make Sourdough from a Discard

Submitted to Contest #306

How to Make Sourdough from a Discard This easy no-fail sourdough discard bread is mixed together the night before, fermented overnight, and baked in the morning. It has a soft, chewy interior with a crusty exterior, and that delicious sourdough taste – without all the work! What is the difference between active sourdough and discard? Active sourdough starter has been well fed and allowed to sit until it is bubbly and almost doubled in size. Sourdough discard is what is left over after it has peaked and has started to come down. If you prefer...

3 likes

Cyberbullying

Submitted to Contest #208

Cyberbullying: the new catchphrase for our day. Mabel was a pioneer in this regard, although in our case, I’d offer a twist: reverse cyberbullying. I’m not sure if that makes sense. Contrived bullying, fake bullying, I don’t know. We were cyberbullying Mabel. We put scantily clad pictures of her on the internet, circling her cellulite, her soft and vulnerable places. If it’s attention she craved, she got it in spades. Public opinion can be ruthless, scathing. We were prototypes, the three of us- myself, Shaye, and Phoebe- placed squarel...

5 likes

Reckoning

Submitted to Contest #204

"Welcome to the Wild West, young pardners! After striking gold, you and your band of prospectors were robbed and taken hostage. You managed to escape but the robber rigged the saloon with all sorts of tricks to keep his loot secure. Your mission: break in and steal back your gold. Yee haw!" I usually spoke that part with gusto- my shoot-em-up not-too-hokey Western accent, grazing my hand against my pretend holster, tilting back my head just so, a machismo wink- this time to a group of young boys- while I drawled, “You got it, pardners?”...

4 likes

The Substitute Teacher

Submitted to Contest #198

It was a foggy November day when a car maneuvered its way into an empty parking spot, seeking cover underneath a maple tree, which only a few days before had been a fiery red; for weeks had burnished, torch-like, but faded now, having shed its glory, a creature shaking loose its scales.  The morning was busy- buses gasping open its doors, students emerging: feet sluggish, heads down, fingers swiping and tapping, smiling and giggling.  An old man walked purposefully through the front doors, went directly to the front office and ...

12 likes

Fellowshipping

Submitted to Contest #193

“A Film Crew in Kichener”                                     A documentary crew is currently filming in areas around Kichener, revealed to be in connection to events occurring six years ago, involving four former students from Northwood High School: Andrea Abramson, Phoebe Doon, Shaye Brooks, and the victim, Mabel Briggs. City officials wouldn’t confirm but ...

6 likes

My Sociopath, John

Submitted to Contest #180

What is it like to be under the glare of a sociopath? A real one; a dark triad of malignant psychopathy, narcissism, and Machiavellianism. Here’s the thing: sociopaths aren’t wearing trench coats and creeping around playgrounds. (Well, some of them are.) You know them. Or perhaps you don’t really know them. They’re utterly charming. They can gaze into your soul; they know parts of yourself that remain in shadowy corridors. They find your weaknesses; they anticipate your joys. Eve knew him as the Beguiler. A shapeshifter, a snake, a temp...

7 likes

The Dollhouse

Submitted to Contest #176

Jane was bored. She and her sisters, Lizzie and Flora, stayed with their grandparents every summer while her parents went on vacation. She’d spent the day moping about until she discovered the attic up on the third floor and toiled away looking through old boxes. There wasn’t a window and it felt airless and hot, and she was about to leave when she noticed out of the corner of her eye a small door. A door for a child! She had to tug and pull at it until it opened, and she sat there for a moment, breathing heavily, and then decided it was to ...

24 likes

Uncanny Valley

Submitted to Contest #172

The man in the suit, that's how Ethan thought of him. He’d told them his name after a cursory introduction, but he seemed sexless, devoid of personality. The man didn’t try to sell them a product; he wasn’t engaging them; he wasn’t dynamic or persuasive. One by one they’d been narrowed down from thirty or so, to fifteen, and now, after almost a week, to just the five of them. They’d been encouraged- not prohibited- from speaking about their personal lives, but they wondered, were they being recorded? They’d had such little down time, aw...

6 likes

The Box

Submitted to Contest #171

Her name was Eileen. And she talked with a smile. If you were blindfolded, or even blind, you’d still hear it- the sparkle in her words, the lilting cadence. Mesmerizing, you could say; hypnotic.  She held out a lacquered cherry wood box; on the top it had a swirl of yellow characters- Chinese perhaps, something Eastern, something profound. But Mara dared not ask this. All she needed to know was that the box was important. It was a keeper of secrets, of unwanted things.  Eileen opened the lid. Mara wanted to lean in and inhale ...

4 likes

You're a Freak

Submitted to Contest #170

When Anne walks into the lecture hall, at first she doesn’t see him, so intent is she trying to navigate her way up the stadium seating. There's a deluge of backpacks and denim-clad legs, the room buzzing with first day jitters. In her experience, the class will remain bloated until the hopefuls- the ones with the add-on cards- will be sent away by the professor. He's the popular one (hence the overfilled hall), and she's relieved she has him and not the other one- the curmudgeonly type, set in his ways.And then she sees him. Will Durham. On...

11 likes

Monster Under My Bed

Shortlisted for Contest #169 ⭐️

Monster Under My Bed The exact details are hazy. I was in college, my junior or senior year, and it was a creative writing class. We were in the computer lab that day, working on our personal essays, but many of us were stuck. “Take a snapshot from your life,” our professor told us. “Select a good one- a hard one, a happy one. Take your pick. And then write about it. How hard can it be?” Behind the glib tone, however, a smile; he was heckling us, and we returned it with equal fervor. Mock fervor; pretend outrage. Our relationship with him...

39 likes