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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020
There is a point past weeping, Dr. Christensen thought to himself, when the pain numbs.He peered at his face in the back of a spoon. The distorted image magnified the broken capillaries under his eyes. From medical school, he knew his lacrimal glands were responsible for his bloodshot eyes and dilated pupils. He maneuvered the spoon to view the extent of his puffy red face, caused mainly by the salt from his tears.The spoon’s reflection revealed the monster he felt he had become.
It was just a museum, an old building with old stuff that no one cared about, sitting right in the middle of town. It was also right where a supermarket could go. No one went to mom-and-pop stores anymore like Bill’s Grocery or Jack’s Supply. They went to SuperMart because it had everything they needed at a low, low price. The town needed a new shopping center. It didn’t need a museum. ...
When Fabian’s father left to get a pack of cigarettes, he said he would return before sunset. He just didn’t say which one.Fabian looked out the window for many weeks, wondering why the cigarette store was so far away. But his mother didn’t miss his father, so Fabian decided he didn’t either. At school, the other 3rd graders weren’t as generous.Your dad is gone, they teased Fabian. Your dad bought a bus ticket to Milwaukee and he isn’t coming back.“My dad got a call f...
In her whole life, Alison had never done a dishonorable thing. She never walked the path less taken—never gave in to her selfish desires until now. To be clear she wasn’t sleeping with another man—that was still a bridge too far—but her heart longed for a distant memory, a love from her past. As is usually the case, the emotional affair started slowly, almost without her noticing it.She allowed that familiar person back into her heart as the passion she felt for her long lost love was a force irresistible. Each night she crawled in...
Life, at its very core, can be broken into two categories: the tangible, things seen and felt and heard, and the intangible—intuition, instinct, feeling. His list of the tangible things read like the plot of a Hallmark movie, dream wife, dream house, dream job. Everything a man could ever want. So why did he wake up in the morning with his heart racing and with cold sweat drenching his pillow? Why then, in his soul, in the area of his spirit known only to him, did he feel a sense of malevolence? Why did his gut tell him to run...
Trigger Warning: Sexual ContentVoluntary Statement: 11/24/1997Yes, I understand this is serious, but that’s not how it happened. Look. My roommate and I—we just heard about the party in the chem lab. We didn’t premeditate anything . . . We showed up around 10:00. Maybe 11:00. Look, I don’t know the exact time. But I was sober when I got there. I didn’t have any drugs or paraphernalia on me. I didn’t smoke marijuana in the dorms before we left. It wasn’t like that.&nbsp...
When Mom died ten years ago, dad practically did too, even though the death certificate would list his official passing with today’s date. There are couples and then there are soulmates; mom and dad were the latter. They didn’t need to finish each other's sentences because they could converse without speaking. Theirs was a love story for the ages, which is why I am completely baffled at the picture I hold in my hands. I found it while cleaning out my dad’s dresser, in the bottom drawer hidden in a cigar box. It has to be ...
Last night’s dirty dishes were still stacked in the sink. Not scraped. Not rinsed. Not even soaked. Just leftover food encrusted on the dinner plates they’d once gleefully picked out for their wedding registry. A happy wedding years ago—actually, decades.Denise sighed, she didn’t have the time or inclination to deal with the mess. Mainly she wondered why her husband hadn’t cleaned up the kitchen. Ever since they’d stopped being intimate with each other, he had shouldered more and more of the household chores.
“Happy Birthday to you—” sang the small crowd of familiar faces, clapping and cheering. Teary-eyed, Richard looked around the room with much appreciation at those who were much beloved, those who were tolerated, and those who were somewhere in between. Thank you, he whispered. Someone handed him his youngest grandchild. He held the infant like a practiced father and stepfather and grandfather. Cameras ...
Most parents are barely adults when they start having children, and young parents can hardly be trusted with raising children, let alone naming them. I have a friend, quite the drinker, who named his first son Jack Daniels Bezrutczyk. Similarly, Mrs. Christmas, a teacher at a rival high school, named her daughter Mary. Yes, there are quite a few stories about children with odd names, but this is a true story about a girl, a name, and an historic prank. I knew the new family next door were the Phool’s—it...
TW: abuse Aidan didn’t know why he was beaten. He just was. Although he did get better at dodging his uncle’s sharp blows and his aunt’s resounding slaps, they seemed to rain down on him like an Irish summer storm. Their scads of children would laugh to see such a sight, pointing at him because he was dirty or his tunic torn. Not hard to tear a tunic in the potato fields, where brambles and thorns seem to seek out his thin legs and inflame the crusty sores on his shins with malevolent intent. <...
Bhagirath Singh, the new first-year surgical resident, didn’t think he would ever get used to the smell of the Emergency Room—or the lack of the respect from the jaded nursing staff. All the nurses seemed to hate him. True, he sometimes had a hard time finding a patient’s vein. True, he didn’t always leave the supply room in pristine condition. True, he treated the nurses with disdain, but he was literally operating on o...
Manuel knew he would never make a good cannibal—he just didn’t like people. In a perfect world, Manuel would have gone into computer programming for the sole purpose of being alone in his basement; however, he despised all things digital, deciding instead to pursue accounting.He now happily calculated other people’s tax returns in the quiet solitude of the subterranean floor of his small brownstone. On his desk, he had one halogen lamp, a legal size pad of lined paper, and a wooden abacus. The abacus was a perfect fit f...
But we by a love, so much refined, That our selves know not what it is, Inter-assured of the mind, Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.
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