Camille Mockingjay

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2021

Stories (4)

4 Stories

105 karma pts

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“Playing Cards” by Camille Mockingjay

Submitted to Contest #183

Playing Cards  My grandmother told me to never fall in love with the other side. I didn’t know what she meant by that at the time. She had spread her cards, her beloved cards, that supposedly tell the future, out in front of my face and told me to choose.  I chose the ace of spades. She clucked her tongue in disapproval, her eyes filled with the fire of knowing without telling. “Dear Adina, never fall in love with the other side. It’ll only be trouble for you.”  I used to think I didn’t believe her. I had been warned from...

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“Silence” by Camille Mockingjay

Submitted to Contest #182

My toes, sockless, freeze as soon as they touch the bedroom floor. I can feel the air from the vents, reaching me from under my bed. I check the time. It’s 2:08. The dead of night, and it is silent. There is no wind blowing. There is no crackle of the house settling. The bed doesn’t creak when I stand. I wrap a blanket around me and shudder. It’s so quiet that I can hear my heart beating.  I knew living alone would mean being alone. However, I didn’t realize I could get lonely so quickly. I was not used to being the only source of nois...

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“How Much Does A Memory Cost?” by Camille Mockingjay

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #159

“How much does this cost?” I asked the seller, holding out my selection of bread and fruit.  “Just a small memory,” he answered. “A happy one, if you don’t mind, Estelle.” I nodded and pointed to my head. He did the same, and I thought of a small happy memory. Fifth grade, answering a question right. Small but happy.  The seller smiled, satisfied. He would watch the scene once, but the memory was not his to keep. It would go in The Book, full of memories playing over and over like a long movie. He would receive food for every me...

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“The Garden Of Light” by Camille Mockingjay

Submitted to Contest #138

The Garden Of LightA day in the garden was promised to me. I was awake hours before the first sunbeam hit my kitchen window, and waiting outside the Garden Gates before half the small village even thought about breakfast. Equipped with a journal, a new pen, and a satchel to take anything that seemed even remotely special, I impatiently clicked my heels together as I tried to catch a glimpse behind the gates. All I could see was a house, bigger than perhaps half the entire village it resided in. It was painted what once was lemon yellow,...

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Author bio

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Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #159
How Much Does A Memory Cost? – read story