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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2022
Submitted to Contest #178
It was a cold day, the kind of cold that caught in your throat, that stained your face primrose, that left your fingers feeble and blue. The snow fluttered gently onto the lampposts, the sun dimmed a gentle orange over the town, the only sound the distant ringing of church bells. On 74 Sycamore street, there sat a small red house, with a door that creaked when it opened and paint peeling off the sides.The backyard unkept and blanketed in snow, a mailbox perched on the fence, the branches of a willow tree skimming the wind. On the porch sat a...
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