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Christopher Miller

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020

Stories (6)

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4 Followers

57 Following

6 Stories

64 karma pts

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Where the Punchlines Go

Christopher Miller

Submitted to Contest #299

Barry Klein never meant to be funny. In fact, if you asked him, he’d say he spent the better half of his twenties trying to disappear. The late nights, the heroin, the methadone when he tried to quit, then the heroin again—it was a cycle he was too tired to name, but too wired to stop. He slept on couches, in his car, sometimes on rooftops when the summer air felt less suffocating than the city below.He stumbled into comedy the way most addicts stumble into trouble—desperate and broke. A Tuesday open mic night at The Gutter Lamp Lounge promi...

4 likes

Into the Wind

Christopher Miller

Lain stood at the edge of the cliff, the wind biting into his skin like a thousand knives. The mountain ranges of North Carolina stretched before him, their jagged peaks reaching towards the clouded sky. Below, the world seemed so far away, so small. His heart pounded in his chest, every beat vibrating through his body like a drum, a prelude to what was coming next. He could feel the adrenaline surge through his veins, the familiar warmth flooding his system, a feeling he had come to crave like a drug.He looked down at the jagged rocks that ...

0 likes

A Moment Between Pages

Christopher Miller

Leif sat at a small wooden table near the back of the old bookshop, the rich aroma of black coffee swirling around him. The shop was quiet, save for the occasional murmur of a turning page or the gentle shuffle of feet on the hardwood floor. He had been coming to this bookshop for months now, always ordering the same drink—black coffee, no sugar, no milk. Just pure, unadulterated bitterness. It was a comfort, a routine that he had grown to love as much as the smell of aging paper and the faint sound of jazz music that played softly in the ba...

1 like

Echoes of a Shattered Truth

Christopher Miller

The wind howled through the valley, weaving whispers of forgotten secrets through the trees. Fallon had heard them all before—murmurs of fate, promises of destiny—but none had ever seemed so real as the one today. The stone path before him felt alive underfoot, every crack in the pavement a knot in his chest. He could feel it. The ancient pull of the mountain was calling him, and today, after all these years of preparation, he would finally confront what he had known all his life: the truth about his origins.Fallon was the last of the Arathi...

0 likes

The Time Between Us

Christopher Miller

Submitted to Contest #289

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.I blink and squint, trying to make sense of the place I’ve awoken in. The walls are smooth, almost metallic, and they hum gently with an eerie, rhythmic vibration. The bed I’m lying in feels soft and unnatural beneath my body, like a cloud, yet it cradles me in a way I’ve never experienced. A faint, cool light glows from fixtures along the walls—no candles, no fire. There is no trace of the world I know.I sit up quickly, my head spinning, and a sharp pain shoots through my skull, forcing me...

11 likes

Masks We Wear

Christopher Miller

Winn stepped into the dimly lit restroom of Verve, an upscale nightclub tucked away in the heart of the city. The heavy bass thumped through the walls, reverberating in his chest. He glanced at his reflection in the cracked mirror over the sink—disheveled, a little worn. His brown hair was slightly damp from the rain he’d walked through earlier, and the shirt he wore felt too tight, uncomfortable, as though it was no longer his.His eyes lingered on the reflection. There was something oddly distant in his own gaze, like he wasn’t entirely him...

1 like