Asia W

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2024

Stories (5)

5 Stories

507 karma pts

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“By Any Other Letter” by Asia W

Submitted to Contest #289

I have been alive for seventeen days, and my sister tells me I will never know God the way I’ll know him when we’re together. She is fourteen years, one month, two weeks, and one day older, and so she is correct. I can see it in the way she moves, like angels are dressing her feet, and smiles with pink lips the shape of a whip tail, and in the way the skin of her face is not mushed with the same oatmealed scars as mine. Nestled by the jaws of the stream, we watch the mothers as they loop the grassy flat of the hill, white dresses bloom...

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“Gas Station at the End of the World” by Asia W

Submitted to Contest #279

The gas station tucked between your hometown and Memphis only accepts cash or party favours, so Marie opens her satchel over the counter and lets memories freckle the toothpaste-blue linoleum. An alabaster poker die. A spindle of hair-thin cotton. A deck of playing cards. A button popped from the collar of a school shirt. This is all you have between you and the attendant is looking down at it like a janitor skirting a subway. You want to say: “That's our lives, it’s all written down, but you can't see what it means.” Instead, yo...

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“Venus Buried” by Asia W

🏆 Winner of Contest #273

The girl in the graveyard is your best friend, so you take her home. The night is a bruise between you, a blotch of rogue in the passenger window; the colour of fruit left out to fester. The body pries at her seatbelt, a finger, then two. The radio echoes static, the body shuffles in her seat. You study the face; the similar slice of jaw, the nose humped from where a baseball had hit her at twelve, just slightly off centre. The skin like a rain-licked plastic bag. The stink of musk and sulphur. You want to look away but you cannot. She's so ...

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“BABY FEVER” by Asia W

Submitted to Contest #249

The morning after my daughter dies, I drive her to an IHOP. The road is scabbed with filled, worn-down, then refilled potholes so by the time we pull into the parking lot the old station wagon is shaking like a wet dog and Marnie’s left cheek is plastered to the vinyl back-seat. Cornsilk hair wreaths her tiny head, lips parted in sleep, pink fists only starting to grey at the knuckles. She looks so much like a porcelain doll that it makes my chest ache. Morning hangs a little lower with empty streets; sun scalds the asphalt, leaving dimples ...

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“Lost Girl, Found” by Asia W

Submitted to Contest #239

We don’t call it a rain, not at first. In the purpled night, stowed away behind weatherboard walls, we imagine it's anything else. An incessant pattering against the asphalt: children throwing stones. A shatter that pulls us headfirst from our sleep: a drunk losing grip on his bottle. The scrape of objects sliding over dew-glossed footpaths: roller skates, scabbed knees, feral cats’ claws. Speculations which make sense. In the mornings, we pull lost things from the gutter like hair from a shower drain. Ring Pops which have already begun to b...

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Author bio

eighteen | she/her | aus writer of the generally strange and unusual.

Winning 1 story 🏆

Contest #273

Venus Buried – read story