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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2022
Submitted to Contest #239
(Content Warning for grief about the death of a pet.) It was a few days after my dog died that I learned I could create life. Samson was a good boy, and losing him hit me hard. I took the day off work and buried him in the backyard. Once I had the last bit of soil stamped back down, I went inside, cleaned up, and eventually found my way to my studio in the garage. The easel already waited for me, a fresh canvas set up weeks ago that I hadn’t the time to touch until now. I painted a portrait of Samson, letting every emotion, both good and...
Submitted to Contest #232
(Content warning for implications of violence, death, and mental health.) When I was ordained as a priest of the Solar Order, I didn’t take my vows very seriously. But then again, that was back when the sun still exhibited its full strength. It was hard to know the dangers of the night when the members of my brotherhood had done so well to drive them back. I, like any other in the city, thought the Order’s teachings a remnant of the past. The things they feared were consigned to the realm of metaphor and myth, teaching designed to frighten...
Submitted to Contest #221
“A pinch of grave soil freshly turned, the feather of a raven… or was it a crow? Three pinches of salt, or to taste… uhm…” “You’ve no idea how to do this, do you?” The question was punctuated with a thud, the tip of the spade biting deep into earth. The gravekeeper paused there, planting the heel of his boot against the wooden haft. “Grave soil, check. We got plenty of it. And that’s a raven’s feather, so I hope that’s what you wanted. But salt? Really? I always heard it was supposed to keep away ghosts.” “I wasn’t aware I hired an expert to...
Submitted to Contest #208
Lion’s first memories were of four constricting walls, and the weak mewling of his six siblings. Their prison seemed at once fragile and yet, to a litter of newborns, impossible to scale. If not for the cardboard, then the pair of giants that stood watch, their large, mishappen heads blotting out the very idea of climbing out from the prisoners’ minds. Ostensibly, these giants were Lion’s parents, and he one of their many fur children. But the world the giants lived in must be a cruel one, where a parent cannot slow to suffer for all their c...
Submitted to Contest #186
“You ever wonder why we’re here?” “Not really, since I know why we’re here.” “Oh, yeah? How’s that?” “Necromancer.” “…Fair point. Don’t see anyone else going around and raising the dead to guard their ancient tombs, I suppose.” “I don’t see anyone except you since I can’t move from this spot. Unless there’s an intruder.” “It’s metaphorical. I don’t mean we actually can or can’t see people raising the dead, you know.” “I’m not sure that’s what a metaphor is.” “Yeah? Then what’s a metaphor, wisebones?” “It’s when you say one thing but really m...
Submitted to Contest #169
“Can’t believe he’s gone.” “I can,” I said. “The man was well over sixty but drank like a college student on a bender and smoked half a pack a day.” Then I sighed. That didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. It’s just…I did miss him already, yeah. But more than that, I was just surprised. Here we were – that being myself and my sister, Tamara – outside Hector Campbell’s old house. The old Scotsman had passed away a few days ago, and then yesterday his notary contacted me about his will. The man didn’t have much, a worn-down house and a pit...
Submitted to Contest #167
The seas heaved below my feet, threatening to knock me off the ship and into their grasping depths. Instead, I slammed painfully into the taffrail at the stern, earning myself a few bruises ribs and nearly losing my cutlass, as the unlucky fellow I was fighting fared worse. He did go over, vanishing under the roiling black waves before I had time to say farewell.Our captain was a right fool to engage the enemy vessel in combat during a storm but I suppose he didn’t have much choice in the matter. Nor I.There were two more of the same ilk as ...
Submitted to Contest #164
“With a mouth like yours, you better learn how to fight or run away,” is probably the second-best piece of advice I’ve ever received. I was given it by a big oaf that also happened to be my classmate. Can’t remember his name, but it starts with an A. Adam, Alex, Asshole? Yeah, that last one. He taught it to me while he was smashing my face in, his buddies cheering him on and watching out for teachers somewhere behind him. I couldn’t see them. Couldn’t see anything except the concrete towers stretching up to blot out the only sunlight this l...
Submitted to Contest #163
(Hello, quick content warning here for themes of suicide, mental health, and real world issues.)The Machine God hungers, and we march into its waiting maw. Step by step in neat little lines through mazes of twisted iron, blinking red lights burning our retinas from above, the cracked pavement abrasive against the soles of our feet.The air holds the memory of ash and smoke, though the fires they spawned from burned out long ago. It brings stinging tears to the eye. As they roll down our cheeks and the salty taste of them fall upon our tongues...
Submitted to Contest #156
I used to always wondered if those moments of déjà vu or the random chills you get down your spine meant anything. Or like those synchronicities that make you go ‘Huh, weird. That’s been everywhere lately,’ or whenever you have to stop and ask yourself ‘What was I doing?’ As if you’ve been plopped into a new body and a new reality with no clue what that version of yourself happened to be doing, but it’s close enough to what you were doing so you just keep at it. I’d been experiencing a lot of those. Almost every day, so really every other da...
Submitted to Contest #153
(Hey all, quick warning up front. The below story contains some mentions to mental health and topics surrounding familial relationships and grief. Please keep safe and be mindful of your own mental health!)Leaden feet carried me closer to the place I needed to go. Through the trees and the rolling hills, to the solitary figure awaiting me.He said nothing as I approached nor as I made a spot for myself in the unruly grass beside him. Normally I would’ve balked at the idea of sitting among the weeds and dirtying the nice suit I wore, but today...
Submitted to Contest #140
I don’t think anyone guessed the end of the world would be so quiet. Given the past few years, I imagine most thought it would end with a brilliant flash of blinding light. Those that weren’t consumed by the fire or torn to shreds by the concussive force would slowly wither in the months that followed as they drank tainted water and consumed poisoned food; a gasping death for the human race, as agonizing as it is tedious. But it wouldn’t be the end of life, nor the Earth. While most might not count extremophiles as proper forms of life, I th...
Submitted to Contest #138
There are some things you can only see when you sleep. Memories that serve as a glimpse into the past, back when the days had the color of roses and the food didn’t taste like ash. Dreams that are bitter only in the fact that you know they must end, but oh so sweet while they last. To be reunited with lost loves and dear friends is the most precious thing sleep offers us. But for a few others, dreaming instead serves as a portal into new worlds. The past can provide them no comfort, so the Sandman ferries them elsewhere. To these far-away s...
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