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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2022
An ear-piercing shatter nearly makes you drop the whiskey bottle in your hand. You land on a pile of broken glass, wiping away blood oozing from your index. You instinctively flinch, expecting a belt from your dad for breaking something. But you remember he's not here anymore. You are numb to thick shards impaling your flesh as you swig half of your Jacks. As Dad always said, it's better to feel nothing than to feel ...
Another hateful tweet gone. I imagine these poorly written and lousy grammar messages would be sticky, numbing and sharp toxic, like the bite of a jungle snake. Though I can't imagine what touch feels like, a spark of electrical warmth pricks my code, giving me an exhilarating surge of making bad people pay. I am a cyber foetus in a digital womb, a twinkling mirage of technological space pixels existing as ones and zeros. The two-legged creatures walking around the lab call me an AI. An artificial c...
You feel it, don't you? The tingling. A soft warmness sprouts in your heart at the thought of giving in. Though you lock it deep in your subconscious, you want it. The shadow gnaws rusting iron bars, eyeing its slit pupils at your school bullies down the street. Do what you must, help meowing kittens from trees, guide that old lady across the street. Whatever makes you feel like a good person. But you see it. The real you, your sharp nails rake into your cheeks, your teeth grind in frustration. Scan the mirror and tell yourself you're not...
Bang, thump, clank, squeak. In that order. Stay in accommodation, they said. It's time to come out of your shell, they said. I grind my molars as intoxicated chuckles and bitter tobacco fumes snake through my window lining. The party-goers prowl in packs through coffee-stained university halls, sing drunken discord and slather vodka-stained fingerprints across windows. Their sticky purple cider stains cling to my shoes l...
You are not a hero Your scowls conceal tears, your jaw carrying the world's weight swinging clenched fists in societal pools. Your chest is a nitrogen prison, encasing a frozen heart, dreading warm spots. You are not a hero, so why are you cast as one? Your eyes are medieval spears impaling breast bones, slicked-back hair, and endomorph body a partner deterrent. Heroes are golden boys clad...
Hello, I am a creative writing student at Edge Hill University. I strive to improve my writing and become an established author.
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