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Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020
Submitted to Contest #225
And they had been waiting for quite a while now. Even if you hadn’t been sporadically staring, you could tell by the way they interacted with the empty space between them. The man visibly huffs and sighs, shooting a mental tirade across the table with a showy gesture of crossed arms, and the woman makes an appearance, but only to you. Earlier, she had called the waiter over before the milieu turned even more sour, an attempt at understanding and placation, but it seemed to you that it would’ve made no difference. The situation would’ve pro...
Submitted to Contest #205
On April 26th, I pack up a piece of the moon. Of course, I don’t actually know, or even care what the date is, but the reasons for its significance are twofold; the humans do, and this time, it’s late enough where I can secure energy for the entirety of next month. The drawstring bag tightens silently as I lump the wheat coloured chunk into its charcoal depths. Even in the few seconds that I held it, I could feel the healing aura seep into my cosmic latte pores, refuelling my social battery to a dangerous level. I will not, I decided, turn i...
Submitted to Contest #71
The stars are red today. Speckled far enough not to touch each other, but close enough to fit onto the jet black abyss of a cookie surface. “Perfect,” I mooned, admiring my own handiwork, less concerned about the taste and more so about the appearance I had been trying to perfect for ages. “Really? Looks like blood mixed in with tar to me,” his smell wafted over first, somehow even more divine than that of my masterwork. His voice registered next; oh, that horrible smooth silk spilling from his disgusting mouth like vile ribbons of...
Submitted to Contest #64
If I were to put it simply, I’d have said that one normal summer day, I slipped away into the darkness, soundly, in my unconscious state. My soul floated away from my body, and I was delegated an afterlife of haunting a fairly good, but lost person of my choice. I would have said all that if I were to put it simply, but what actually happened, by no means, is simple, and thus I will regale you with the version packed with delightful intricacies. It was indeed a summer day, but the robins were chirping some sort of rehearsed song, s...
Submitted to Contest #62
I leave it for her, and no one else. It was a mission stuffing the already frayed edges into the capsule, and maybe no one would open it for that precise reason, even if they somehow did find it. But I know that she will, because the pull of a dead sister with her heart in the one place it always was will be too strong. The oak tree branches will cup her with their spindly fingers, making sure her moment was undisturbed. It’ll probably be at twilight; that was our timely ritual. The half lit sky will hold secrets that engulf her, probe her t...
Submitted to Contest #61
It’s funny how people hold on to things. Somehow a frayed notebook carries memories of carefree days past, while a piece of glass reflects a shattered home. A dusty scarf smells like your favorite roast dinners, while a rusted gold ring reminds you of a cheap love. I guess it’s quite simple, really. Objects that others dismiss mean the world to you; they hold the sentimental values of your whole universe. Sometimes I look at the locket, turn it around until it starts to look like another scar on the palm of my hand. It isn’t rusted. It’...
Submitted to Contest #59
When I was seven, I requested my room be painted pink, the only valid colour to a 7 year old girl, with aspirations bigger than life itself. When I was thirteen, I decided to go with a crimson red to channel my inner scorpio and newfound ardor for astrology. When I was seventeen, I opted for a lemon yellow so I could always wake up to the sun.Now I’m twenty-two, and I’ve painted my four walls grey, so that they always reflect my mood.Today, the walls reflect the weather too. Grey clouds roll along the dull sheet of a sky, drizzle t...
Submitted to Contest #57
“My children will think I left them with nothing. On the surface, this will be one of the hardest things their ignorant hearts will have to go through. But later...much later, they’ll understand that I actually left them everything. I gave them everything.”“Are you sure about this?” Marcus trusts Abel. He knows the man that’s been through hell and back, and is nothing less of a sage. But he’s not too sure Abel is on his toes today.“Marcus, always much more than my lawyer, but my friend. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my miserabl...
Submitted to Contest #53
Welcome to Echo Falls! Population: 12000 2 3The two girls stare at the sign, albeit transfixed on different parts. Cross legged and in the middle of the road, they sit, far enough apart to tackle a rogue animal holistically, but close enough not to let each other drift away. Naila squints against the blistering sun, regarding Syre without actually regarding her, in the nonchalant attitude they had so perfectly cultivated over the past year.“I still can’t believe you butchered that ‘E’ so badly. I mean first of all, it’s lopsided, and second ...
Submitted to Contest #52
She was never one for “I love you” or even “I love you too.” Maybe she should have been, but she wasn’t. She was one for “You’re not good enough” and even “You’ll never be good enough.” She probably shouldn’t have been, but she was. So it wasn’t surprising when I caught her snogging my fiance twenty minutes before we were due to spend the rest of our lives together. Well, it wasn’t that surprising, and maybe “caught” isn’t the right word. I’m not really sure they were trying to hide it. ***My stoic face looks back unto itself, tryi...
Submitted to Contest #51
“I think.... is she dead?” I stand over the little girl, gulping, drops of crimson falling from my dagger onto her cadaverous face. She almost looks like she’s back alive like that, the blood seeping into her cheeks, giving off the guise of a deep blush. “She looks beautiful,” I remark, still talking to myself, with awe in my voice, a look of wonder on my face.“Aaaand scene,” Ryan strikes the clapper, motioning for the props crew to clear the setting. His eyes never leave me, though. Too exhausted to care this time, I’m determined, push...
Submitted to Contest #50
He had flowers growing out of his lungs now. The same ones growing in our garden; spray carnations, daisies, lilies, orchids. The whole lot, really. I didn’t have the heart to leave any out, not when his own had gone into them both in life and death. So I added as much variety as I could on the 24 by 36 inch canvas, which was slowly but surely filling up with the vibrant colours of petals.“You okay up here?” Jared's deep voice floats through the wooden room, reaching me before his warm hands do. He’s been baking, because they smell of fresh ...
Submitted to Contest #49
We were waiting to be taught how to smile. The kind that’s genuine, easy, natural. The kind that lights up a room. I look over at the only other person in the room, and he’s scowling. I feel awkward, enough to want to break the silence, but I don't say anything. Instead, I tap my nails, bitten to the core, against the metal hand rest of the metal chair. Come to think of it, this whole room had a metal vibe. Metal tube lights emitting a pale white glow, the type you see in hospitals. A metal door, a contrast to the glass one at the entra...
Submitted to Contest #48
“-as FUCK,” she enunciated those last words, presumably to either piss me off, encourage me to end the session, or both. Of course, I knew that she was in fact trying to do all this, with an added desire of getting me to probe. Like the mind reading counsellor that I am, I do exactly that. “And why do you think that seahorses are…” I pause to squint my eyes, treading carefully, “magical as fuck?”Her own brown almond eyes widen slightly. She’s surprised that I would mirror the casual profanity of Gen Z, and she’s deciding whether my resp...
Submitted to Contest #47
You gaze out of the window, fat raindrops streaking down the glass, and scold yourself for believing the weather forecast again. Pathetic fallacies of the weather always seem to occur when you want them the least, you reflect somberly, accompanying a forlorn look at your mother with a sigh. She doesn’t seem to be affected by the gloominess outside. In fact, she’s mollycoddling all five of the cats, humming “Beautiful Day” by U2. “I’m going out to...I’m just gonna sit in the corridor for a while and watch the rain,” you tell her,...
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