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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020
Submitted to Contest #294
Another year, another solo trick-or-treating trip, Hilda thought, stepping out her front door. She almost turned around to say goodbye to her parents, but she knew better by now. Her father was snoring on the couch, empty beer cans scattered around; her mother was staging another screaming match behind closed doors with… well, Hilda stopped keeping track a while ago. So, she sighed, primped the flowing skirt of the princess costume she’d sewn herself, and carefully made her way down the stoop as the screen door creaked shut behind her like s...
Submitted to Contest #278
When Mariella sauntered in, the courtroom erupted into a cacophony of shifting seats and poorly repressed coughs. A few people excused themselves, including two of the jury. The bulky bailiff could’ve easily stopped them, but he hardly noticed. His focus, like everyone else’s, was completely, entirely, and irrevocably on Her. The judge cleared his throat loudly, wiping a veritable waterfall of sweat from his brow. “A-Attention, please,” he whimpered, hammering his gavel weakly, as if scared to smush a finger. “Attention, everyone. I kn-know ...
Submitted to Contest #222
Humphrey rolled out of the way just as the Geigerfly dove at him and felt a burst of power. That always seemed to happen if he waited until the last possible second to dodge, though he couldn’t say why. He came around for the shot as the Geigerfly began to pivot midflight, and time slowed down around him. Everything—the irradiated river to his right, the poisonous gook the Geigerfly had just spewed, the Geigerfly itself—moved as if through molasses. That often happened after his bursts of power. As did his strangely overpowered gunshots. S...
Submitted to Contest #176
Raymond’s camcorder beeped, causing him to nearly fall out of the tree he was perched in. How long had he been asleep? He’d checked to make sure the camcorder was working, and then… Shit. The moon had been much lower last he’d seen it. The camcorder beeped again. Low battery. He rummaged through his ski jacket’s puffy pockets, hoping his past self had thought to bring extra AA batteries. He hadn’t. Shit. Well, maybe there was enough time to run home and grab some. Snow still covered Dr. Haberworth’s driveway, which meant— The front doo...
Submitted to Contest #170
“I’ve got a plan.” As usual, Derrick doesn’t seem to hear me. Ironic, since I’m the one without eyes or ears. “See that rope? The one suspending that heavy-looking box in the air?” I’d point if I could, but… no hands, either. “Shoot me through it! The box will fall, and—” Uh-oh. He’s nocking me. And he’s decidedly not aiming me at the rope. “Shoot the rope, Derrick! The rope! It’s straight ahead! We could do a lot more damage if you just—” He fires me. For those few moments I’m sailing through the air, becoming one with the wind, I for...
Submitted to Contest #163
Adrian’s fork clinks against his plate as he sets it down to pick up his spoon. It’s the first sound any of us have heard since the beginning—the Big Bang of this family dinner. Heh. Calling it a “family dinner” as if it’s just like any other… I meet Mari’s eyes, but they dart away, focusing on some pattern in the tablecloth. It is a nice tablecloth—been in the family for generations. Long enough for all of us to know all of its intricate designs without even having to look, which means Mari is faking. We all are. All Mom and Dad can do ...
Submitted to Contest #152
Miranda groped her way along the cold wall of the cave, ignoring the fresh nicks and scrapes gifted her by the sharp gravel beneath her feet. They were, after all, nothing compared to the hunger. The sun didn’t shine down here in the bowels of the earth, but she knew, she knew days had passed. Days and days and days. Enough days that she’d begun thinking it might’ve even been weeks, months, years. How long could a person last without food, anyway? She knew so many other things—things that had qualified her to join up as a “valued team memb...
Submitted to Contest #136
Colorless smoke curled from the crater, shimmering like the ghosts of Yershai’s comrades. His friends. Crix. Indoph. Tinseff. Del’lor. Melawa. All gone. All— Yershai felt the next explosion before he saw it. By the time he did see it, the shockwave was already upon him, sending him tumbling across the compound like a ball punted by a giant. He… was still alive. Still… *** “Yo!” Crix’s voice—coming from the mess hall, as per usual. The man somehow got there before everyone else every morning, cooks included. And he claimed he didn’t sleep...
Submitted to Contest #130
This frigid world is almost completely devoid of life (except for the equator, which falls just within the outermost limits of the Sontila Habitability Index), yet its abundant natural resources, encased under glacier-thick ice, were long ago deemed too precious to let be. And so the Planetary Expeditionary Force, now known galaxy-wide as the PEF, was established, attracting only the hardiest members of the most cold-resistant species. They’re compensated most handsomely for their dangerous and invaluable efforts, and—Arïak lobbed the inform...
Submitted to Contest #129
Kenton,Hey, man. I know this is a little strange since I still have your number, but… I wanted to send you a handwritten letter. I don’t expect us to become pen pals or anything, but I promise there’s a point to this, so just bear with me for a bit here. Or, y’know, don’t. You’re a big boy now; you make your own decisions.Anyway. Rewind to high school ski club. I joined for two reasons: because you were doing it, and because Jamie Tipton was doing it. What better justification could there’ve been?No matter my reasons, waking up at 2am to cat...
Submitted to Contest #106
As always, Kellem didn’t once break eye contact with Hoskins as he received his daily lashes. To my master’s credit, Kellem thought, gritting his teeth as the whip dug into his skin, he never breaks eye contact with me, either. Locked in this agonizing stare down more times than he could count—and he couldn’t count—Kellem had come to know every facet of Hoskins’s eyes as intimately as he’d come to know the fields he planted. They were gray—not the gray nebula of storm clouds, nor the gray sheen of new steel. More like… the gray of a wolf’s ...
Submitted to Contest #105
“I’m counting on you,” Markus says, hand on my shoulder and heel already turned to go. Heh. Ain’t that the gods’ honest truth. I nod, but he and the others are off before so much as a single hair on my head sways back from the motion. They’re not brushing me off, of course: they just have more important things to attend to. World-saving things. It’s only natural someone has to be left behind to guard the escape route. It’s only natural that someone is me. … And it’s only natural that the escape route is the smelliest sewer tunnel in this ...
Submitted to Contest #95
Yuyama readjusted her bag’s shoulder straps as she took stock of her situation. The Hyne system’s two suns beat down relentlessly, making it hard to think even with the cooling gear in her envirosuit on full blast. She couldn’t just figure it out as she went along anymore; those days were over. It was think or die, now—not easy for a mercenary who preferred to have others do the thinking for her or die. Alright, she thought, slipping her thumbs out from beneath the straps and tilting her hat to keep the suns out of her eyes. Time to think t...
Submitted to Contest #60
“Blech!” Hilda stuck her tongue out in disgust as she ripped her makeshift axe from the dead giga rat – ten times the size of its smaller rodent cousins. Daisuke was always better at this kind of thing… she thought. Flicking the slimy blood off with two quick shakes, she continued her way down the dress aisle. She already had shoes picked out: a pair of ink black combat boots that were as stylish as they were practical, still perfectly preserved in the original shoe box. That box rested in a shopping cart she found in the parking lot earli...
Submitted to Contest #48
Everyone has wished or hoped or dreamed they could fly at some point in their lives. Free as a bird, finally untethered from their earthly troubles as they soar through the stratosphere. It’s a nice idea, but I can barely stand the troposphere myself. I’m no meteorologist, but Google says that 62°F is the average tropospheric temperature, and it can get as cold as -60°F. I went up to test it out a while back and… won’t be going that far up again. So lame. Then there’s the matter of landing. I don’t really watch superhero movies or read com...
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