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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2025
Submitted to Contest #306
Sanaritan Antibacterial Multi Surface Cleaner Spray, 2-Pack (2 x 1L), Household Cleaning Solution, Protection from Nasties, No Scent, Allergen-Free, Undetectable £0.80 (£0.40 per litre)Product detailsBrand: SanaritanSpecific uses for product: All cleaning requirementsSurface recommendation: Tested to be effective on all surfacesSpecial feature: Free and secure app for personalised supportCountry of origin: United KingdomAbout this item• KILLS 99.9% OF NASTIES - Our solution acts speedily and is scientifically proven to kill 99.9% of the unde...
Submitted to Contest #305
In the spirit of the prompt this is unedited, so please forgive the rough edges... Content warning: swearing, description of gender-based violence I wonder if Charon ever wanted a chat with his punters. Punters, geddit? That's what they call me, you see. I didn't geddit myself at first, but then I looked it up online, and I said, ‘you got me there,’ and I was proud because Charon was cooler than Tommy Tofu. I’m not a vegan or nothing, they just called me that at school ‘cause I ent got no flavour of my own, just take on whatever’s around me....
Submitted to Contest #304
Newgate Prison, 1469My ryght dere frende William, Confynement shalle not mean the voyce of Sir Thomas Malory, knyght, be putte to sylence. It is sayd, a good man may not be cast adown! Though he be ymprysoned for armes taken unlawefully, extorcion, steelyng of horses and entente to slay. And enterynge wythout leve. I thanke thee hertily for sendyng the quill, ynke and parchment. Despyte thys, the sum of these items doth not meete myn ambycion. Myn purpose ys not ful symple - I shalle not scryve but smalle lettres. Myn purpose ys a dreme of g...
Submitted to Contest #303
Content warning: substance abuse, poor mental health, neglect, domestic abuse, groomingThe boys sat on the garden wall, leaning into one another, head-to-head. They were sharing somebody else’s space, Reece’s mobile phone, and a nit, which slowly traversed the crossing-point from Euan’s brown scruff to Reece’s red crewcut. Reece’s mom would have to give Euan the shampoo, again.‘Just one more,’ said Euan, as the progress bar on the video rushed towards its endpoint.Ah, fine,’ said Reece, as if no was an option.They cracked up as a kid on scre...
Submitted to Contest #302
Katherine’s fingers arched over the piano keys, looping under one another, stiffly and a little forced - but she did it. As the notes guided her into memory, she felt her throat tighten - this part always made her cry. The evening light fell and it was as though with her right hand alone, she was summoning the stars. The piece sang out like Debussy with a hint of backbeat. It was the composition of an accomplished amateur. It was an emotional archive. And today, it was a test she’d set herself. One, two, three chords in the left hand, clash...
Submitted to Contest #301
Content notice: swearing, drugs, sex. Consider yourselves warned!Hen party=bacheloretteLove Hearts=SweetheartsSixth Form=high school‘Look guys, nowhere in the schedule does it say “spend thirty minutes in duty-free buying Juicy Couture, a lifetime supply of Haribo, and … sexy stuff”,’ said Alice, twisting her hair round her finger, as she waited for her friends to choose something - anything - take it to the till, and pay for it.‘No time for a hookup either!’ said Megan, wagging her finger at Roxana, who was deliberating between Extended Ple...
Submitted to Contest #300
‘Work with me here,’ Robyn muttered to the lift doors. ‘If you just stay shut, we don’t have to go.’Jack motioned to their three fellow riders: a baby, a toddler, and a young child. ‘Yep. I’ll take being stuck in here with them over leaving.’ And he meant it.Maeve hammered on the release button. The doors snapped open. She charged into the hall, a mini riot. Toddlers don’t observe your ceremony, Robyn reminded herself. She doesn’t want to hold this moment into her palms, still and quiet, and of course she doesn’t: we teach children to burst ...
Submitted to Contest #299
As I watched the man once again smoking his pipe full of candied peel and haranguing the air with great vigour, it seemed to me that in this world one could be purposeful, even whilst being quite thoroughly mad.I thought, moreover, he was hard of hearing, as he produced two tiny trumpets, placing one in each ear, before announcing himself with the prodigious volume of the extremely deaf.‘Wassup?’ he said, to nobody.He spoke often of blessings, which led me to consider whether he was a holy man. His attire was not that of the clergy - he in f...
Shortlisted for Contest #298 ⭐️
Content notice: this story contains allusions to dementia.Clare watched Rupert looking down at the snake plants, an expression tender as the Virgin. He wouldn't know they were hardy little blighters. The only thing he regularly nurtured was his investment portfolio. The plants lined the entrance walkway, emerald leaves edged in chartreuse, a row of cobras en garde. He regarded them with hand on heart.‘Of course, we’d have to put in a reinforced walkway, and some kind of barrier, maybe a Security Guard.’He motioned down the glasshouse pathway...
Submitted to Contest #297
The station clock turns 22.36. Four minutes until the last train home.I look around my things, check I’ve got everything. Suitcases, backpack, phone. I see the train guard throwing me a dirty look. Again. He’s bored and uncomfortable - I can tell because he keeps messing with his boxers, pinching his thighs and shifting. Well his approach to his work is as uptight as his underwear, ‘cause he’d already come up to me half an hour ago, asking to see my ticket. Valid. He seemed put out that I was legit.‘We’ve had loads of trains go to Portsmouth...
Submitted to Contest #296
I had to be the logistics man, you see, because my comrades couldn’t organise a slam poetry night, let alone a cyber attack on a healthcare corporation. They were talented, all right - they all played their parts. Jenna, Victor, Glyph and the delightful Fatima. They were a nice bunch, for lefties, but Christ alive, did they need telling what to do when. Steve Glubman to the rescue. There we were, after-hours in an out-of-the-way flat in Cowley, Oxford - found by Mr. Logistics: yours truly. Someone with a bit of nouse had thought to pre-order...
Winner of Contest #295 🏆
'Let’s have no two ways about it. Jeanie really could be a twat.'El leaned over the lectern and looked the front row of mourners straight in the eyes. She had one elbow on the celebrant’s notes, and for all the world looked like she was ordering a pint of Bishop’s Finger down at her local in Dalston.'Oh no, it’s the ex wife, I can see some of you thinking. How’d she get up there?'She chuckled.The celebrant suddenly took on a very bird-like stance, her gaze flitting from El’s biceps, tattooed with pitchforks and spades, to the family sitting ...
Submitted to Contest #294
Dear Erin, I told your the story again today. It's not your story, even though it is a story of you. I can't start thinking like that. Maybe you saw me? BBC Breakfast, no less! If you'd have asked me a year ago why I thought I’d be on there, I would have said - God knows - doing a bloody charity walk, or singing on a novelty Christmas single, or something. Not this. Me and you, love. We’ll never be known for what we were. They were gentle with it, mind. I got tea beforehand - shouldn’t have had it, I was busting for a wee the whole time. The...
Submitted to Contest #293
Percy Thistlethwaite slumped into his seat, staring out the coach front window. Forty-five minutes of peace. The return trip was always better - kids too drained to cause trouble, their bloodstreams no longer fizzing with caffeine and anticipation. He glanced at Stella, Head of Year, tapping away at her phone. If anything kicked off, she could deal with it.Ten years at Grimeford Academy. History Teacher. More Able Coordinator. Titles came and went with fashions in education (“Gifted and Talented”, “Aspire and Achieve”), but Percy remained. H...
Submitted to Contest #292
People file though galleries like they’re waiting in the queue at the pharmacy. “Ooh,” I hear someone say, “I like that one,” pointing at a depiction of the artist being ripped to shreds in the war-torn jungles of Vietnam, like it’s a new type of corn plaster she’s thinking of taking for a spin. Most people move at a bureaucratic pace, past each frame: tick, tick, tick. It makes sense, if you want to see as much as you can. As the factoid goes, if you looked at each painting in the Louvre for just thirty seconds, it would take over eight day...
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