Ashlynn Prins

“You Stole My Voice” by Ashlynn Prins

My foot bounced up and down violently on the steel bleachers. My hand shook as it leaned over my leg, my eyes barely even looking down at the screen of my shaking cellphone.  I was too distracted by the curly brown haired boy who stood at the bottom of the bleachers.  His head was turned upwards towards me, it had been for a while now.  I huffed out a frustrated breath. There were so many other interesting things to stare at in this darn school; the sweaty teenagers in front of us that were practicing slamming into each o...

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“The Light” by Ashlynn Prins

Submitted to Contest #239

A ragged breath comes from a lone traveler. His heavy leather boots lift slowly, and fall back down to the ground with a hard stomp. Sweat protrudes from his brow as the heat beats against his skin. The drops of salty water slid down his dirty forehead and sting into his eyes.  Clang, clatter, clop, sings the leather sack that slides across the ground behind him, his aching arm clutching to its strings.  The sand shifts from under him. Constantly changing from rocks, to dirt, then to sand all over again. He’s forgotten how long he’...

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“Not Wrong” by Ashlynn Prins

Submitted to Contest #103

My eyes open slowly, the scent of old musty books and hot coffee beckoning me awake.  I sit there, confused, as a tall stack of encyclopedias comes into focus.  It takes me another second to realize that the crinkled page under my cheek is not my pillow.  I lift myself up from the old oak table, rubbing my sore cheek. Pushing my long red hair out of my face, I glance around the large room, now remembering where I am.  Tall windows let in the early morning sunlight, bouncing warm shadows on the cold book shelves that line ...

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“Ash Out” by Ashlynn Prins

Submitted to Contest #98

“Why, God?”  I mutter.  I breathe heavily, trying to keep from sobbing. My face mask pushed hot air back at me, making me feel lightheaded.  I whipped the thing off my face, despite the smokey air surrounding me.  I close my car door, and walk up onto the sidewalk.  It used to stand right there. It was right there, with that big green tree and all of the green plants that my mom tried so hard to make beautiful. Where we had movie nights on mom’s bed and deep conversations on the back porch.  Where we had coffee ...

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“The Wooden Lion” by Ashlynn Prins

Submitted to Contest #96

The large duffle bag landed with a thud as it hit the hard wooden floor.  Philip tossed his heavy jacket onto the quilted bed, a thin layer of dust wafting into the air from the motion.   “Sorry bout’ that, Deary.” A small old woman said from the doorway.  Earlier Philip had learned her name to be Suzie.  “It’s been ages since we’ve had to use this room, but it’s all we’ve got at the moment.  I’ll have fresh linen up here in a bit.” She said, looking around the room, abashed by the amount of cobwebs. “Don’t worr...

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