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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2025
Submitted to Contest #310
An aspiring author needs to write to get experience. I had a good name to write under, I didn’t even need a pseudonym. Sapphire Squires. A romance novelist’s name if ever I heard one. I decided to write in a journal about people I know, for practice on character development. No one would ever see what I wrote. Just wishing to improve.Be careful what you wish for. As the saying goes, there’s more tears shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones. I wonder. From my journal: My co-worker Peggy. I met Peggy a few weeks after I’d started my o...
Submitted to Contest #304
Trigger warning: mention of violence and murderFood for thought.I’ve been running and hiding too long. I’ve become too much like the destroyers.We used to think of the destroyers as serial killers. We used to think of them as abnormal or evil. That was before the population explosion, was before the government hired them to do for pay what they used to do for fun.We would set off noisy fireworks, Don and me, and lure the destroyers away from us so we could find a place to hole up. After four or five days, we couldn’t find even sparklers. Don...
Submitted to Contest #301
Warning: mention of drinking and driving I‘ve heard the story of my birth several times. My dad’s car was being repaired and the hospital wasn’t too far away, so my mom started walking. She dismissed the idea of calling a taxi. “No taxi driver wants to accept a fare from a woman about to give birth.” “We can call my brother, dad, or uncle,” Dad argued. “They take forever to do anything,” Mom replied, with an airy wave of her right hand. She saw a police car with its motor running, parked outside a convenience store. She looked inside and s...
Submitted to Contest #298
Warning-substance use disorder If his high school English teacher hadn’t assigned him A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court during his freshman year, his life would have been completely different.Lewis Wilder had smiled politely when Mrs. Roberts first handed him the Mark Twain novel, but inside he was groaning. Reading about King Arthur? The knights of the round table? That old stuff? But when Lewis started reading, the book fascinated him. He felt irresistibly drawn to the character of the wizard Merlin, even though Mark Twain’s prot...
Submitted to Contest #296
Warning-mature themesI never expected to see her here, Lance thought, then chided himself for judging Jamie Fentress on her past.“Officer Strubhart!”The tall, husky man in black sweats and sneakers smiled, waved a hand, and said, “I’m retired. Call me Lance.” He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, feeling a little awkward knowing that Jamie was unaware he knew her secret.Jamie, equally casual in a blue-gray jumpsuit and sandals, looked different from what he remembered, with her blonde hair in a pixie cut. She lowered her voice as t...
Submitted to Contest #294
Dear George,At work today I told the story about how your ex got tired of you complaining about getting the same lunch every day. So the next day there was a container of fried ants in your lunch. I know you didn’t eat any, but one of your co-workers did. You would always laugh when you told the story, but I bet you never complained about your lunch again. No wonder you never let me pack you a lunch.Work is going okay. I know that blessed are the merciful, but it’s tough to have mercy on these people who get on your last nerve. Working ...
Submitted to Contest #293
“I'm late.” I admitted to myself that I was very late to the realization about my family. That when dealing with blood relatives feels like you’re fighting your way through the jungle with a machete, it's past time to choose your family instead of trying to belong to the family given to you by DNA. I loved my mom, I lived with her after my divorce. She didn’t drive, so I became her unpaid chauffeur, as one of my co-workers put it. She was having fainting spells, where she would get to her feet and then suddenly just collapse. After she fell...
Submitted to Contest #292
The midi dress was a dark plum shade with three quarter length sleeves. No designer brand name, only a small tag attached to the inside collar. The tag showed an image of an orange phoenix flying against a blue sky. Elise Brock fingered the cleavage revealing lace up bodice as the man with the bronzed face held the dress up for her to see. Best of all, the dress even had pockets. “Not exactly how I envisioned saying yes to the dress,” Elise said, with a sigh. She’d spent all Friday afternoon at the downtown market without buying anythin...
Submitted to Contest #290
Warning: this story contains elements of sexual violence, mental health issues, and self harm &nbs...
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