Cat Lockhart

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2024

Stories (4)

4 Stories

54 karma pts

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“Fool Me Once” by Cat Lockhart

Submitted to Contest #268

1. Miranda Curlew, 1840. Wednesday Miranda Curlew had prepared with utmost care for her church entrance in the hope eligible men would be on display in St James Chapel By-The-Way where locals were known to sometimes shelter around lunchtime from the shrill wind which screamed through the village of Babbinton, where the ancient stone houses were built in rows of such tight proximity as to provoke long and mean wind tunnels even on a good day. The heavy door resisted before creaking inward. Miranda allowed her blac...

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“A bad case of writer's block” by Cat Lockhart

Submitted to Contest #266

I see what he’s doing and I think I like it. Cropped dark hair, chiselled jaw, bulging arm muscles, tee-shirt stretched tight across my buff chest. I feel strong, invincible, an alpha male at my peak. I’m what you’d call a fine specimen. No one can defeat me. Ha, yes, I could get to like this, very much indeed. His bare arms rippled in the sun. He sprinted, leaping three metres and mounting the motorbike from behind. He revved wildly sending a cloud of fumes into the path of the red-headed gorilla chasing him on foot. The gorilla, a KGB hitm...

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“Buddy Says I Do” by Cat Lockhart

Submitted to Contest #264

Buddy started out life as “that runty puppy”, the one with the weird orange patch on an otherwise silky black ear. He had seven sisters and a brother. In the crush, his mother, a sharp-nosed terrier of an indiscriminate tan color, was too overwhelmed to take notice of the smallest member of her litter. Buddy struggled to suckle because the others crawled over him and nudged him off the teat. If he could see himself, he would have realized he looked a little crazy. He had a lazy left eye. His right ear sat up high while his other ear flopped....

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“Helter Swelter” by Cat Lockhart

Submitted to Contest #262

<1422> words Helter Swelter I can’t seem to get traction on the steering wheel. My fingers are slip sliding away. I grab some tissues and wipe down the leather, then wipe my hands, then grab some more tissues for my glistening face, then do it all again. I haven’t even made it out of my driveway. The clock says 7.49 am - the temperature says 98 degrees. How can it be this hot this early in the day? At least I’m early. Like, super, super early. I’d rather be early for this meeting than late, and I can get changed into so...

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Author bio

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