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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2023
Submitted to Contest #228
God's teeth, it just smelled so... so good. Like yeast and warmth and charcoal. Her hands gripped the edges of the silver tray, knuckles almost white. She wouldn't drop it. Nor would she even look at it. But she felt that even looking at it would be less sinful than smelling it. The aromas were more than sensual as they caressed her cheeks and penetrated into her very soul. In fact, she worried she was blushing an unseemly red, betraying one of the many desires she wasn't allowed to have. None of them were allowed to have. Desire was no...
Submitted to Contest #227
Ash was falling from the sky. No...was it ash? It looked like ash. It was too familiar to not be, but the dissonance resonated too hard in Ella's head. She watched as the white, fuzzy flakes wafted down from the sky and carpeted the street. The whole world was disappearing from view. The perfectly manicured lawn, still iridescently green in mid-winter. The black asphalt road, smooth and unmarred by cracks and potholes. The orange Subaru Outback with tiny white stick figures representing a family, faceless and timeless.Ella pressed her face u...
It is the third manor I am to visit this week. Traveling in the height of summer in no easy feat, and my shirt is sticky with sweat as I haul my valise down to the platform, hazy and thick as the sun reflects off the old brick. Upper Bilgewood. My last stop before reporting back to headquarters. Upper Bilgewood is a quick stop, and the train begins panting on its way, steam swimming through the already saturated air. I head down the platform to the station. Without the heavy sighs of the train, the platform is quiet. I had been the only pass...
Submitted to Contest #214
I stared at him across the table. He was stirring sugar into his coffee, clinking the spoon against the ceramic edges. I sat with my hands curled around my cup, the coffee in it still black and bitter. Cracks in the faux leather booth dug into my thighs, my skin chilly from the blasting AC. My palms began to burn, and I let them, imagining the heat seeping up through my arms into my heart. Ian sipped his sweetened coffee, his eye twitching as the flavor hit his tongue. A 24-hour diner was not the place to go for the best roast. "So. What...
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