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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2025
Submitted to Contest #316
ACT ONESCENE ONEAmanda, John, Maggie, and Matt sit around a rectangular coffee-table in Amanda’s dining room. The kitchen flanks one side, the living room the other. The decor of the condo is a modern-farmhouse. Amanda’s obsession with cats can be observed through the numerous oil paintings and glass figurines splattered throughout the home. A grand piano is nestled in the living room along with an expansive bookcase, although it is clear that neither have been touched in ages. The assembled family members stare at one another in complete si...
ME GUSTAN NIÑASACT 1SCENE 1Ms. Cassandra Smith, a 5th grade English teacher, sits at her desk in the back corner of her classroom. Her classroom is decorated in muted, calming variations of pink and beige. The room is covered in posters of quotes from famous writers, thinkers, and leaders throughout history. Behind Ms. Smith’s desk is a large Pride flag- a source of immense pride for the queer young woman. A young girl enters from stage left.GIRLDisculpe, maestra, can I talk to you?Ms. Smith looks at the girl and smiles, gesturing her over t...
Submitted to Contest #311
CW: Contains themes and/or references to violence and sexual content. I remember being human. The fragility, the hopefulness, the excitement- all of those things seemed so foreign to me now. Blood dripped from fingers and splattered on the concrete below. The blood-curdling screams of the young man slumped on the wall in front of me had ceased, leaving behind a blanket of silence. A single finger entered my mouth as the scent of iron filled my nostrils. I moaned. Hearing approaching footsteps, I quickly grabbed my victim and threw him onto t...
Submitted to Contest #307
I wandered aimlessly around the museum, trying to settle my racing heart. I had a mission, a purpose for this little visit- to find the White Family Bible and uncover any secrets or revelations I could about our family’s generational curse and the raven mocker. However, a nostalgic part of my brain also just wanted to walk around the East Tennessee History Center and breathe in the history. It was strangely grounding and cathartic to surround myself with stories from the past. I entered the exhibit entitled Voices of the Past. My steps quive...
The crimson glow of the neon sign painted the dive bar in hues of danger and desire. Hazel, a creature woven from shadows and centuries, watched from her shadowed booth. Her eyes, the color of ancient sapphires, fixated on a woman perched at the bar, nursing a cheap beer. The woman, plump and unsuspecting, exuded an aura of naïve sweetness. Hazel craved her, deeply. Not just her blood, though that was a given, but her very essence. To claim her as her own- body, blood, and soul was a hunger Hazel hadn’t felt in decades.As Hazel moved, a pred...
Submitted to Contest #306
Text from Jason (SMS): I love you, little sister. Take care of Tom when I’m gone.My heart stopped beating. Warning bells sang in my head like a church choir, echoing and reverberating through my bones. I quickly dialed my older brother’s number and awaited his answer with bated breath. "Jason, what are you talking about?" I asked, my voice trembling."Just what I said, sis," he replied, his voice flat, devoid of its usual warmth. "I need you to look after Tom.""No, Jason. Don't say that. Where are you? I'm coming to you." My mind raced, tryin...
6-10-25 Dear Diary, It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I haven’t felt the need to write anything in a long time. My distant relative, Tennessee Williams, was once asked why so many great writers come from the South. His answer was superficial at best- very uncharacteristic of him. However, I know exactly what he wanted to say now- it’s because of the pain. Haunted memories of torture and agony seep into every nook and cranny of this region. Trauma is the South’s most addictive stimulant, especially for writers. Maybe that’s why I have finally de...
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