Claire Marsh

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2023

Stories (7)

7 Stories

220 karma pts

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“Persuasion” by Claire Marsh

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #248

‘The world’s ending,’ they said.Yeah right, as if. Sure, there’s climate change, weapons of mass destruction, pandemics, Elon Musk. But the world has always been batshit crazy, and it’s kept turning. This must be the same, right?That’s what I thought. Then Virtual Reality-infoverts hijacked my gameplay. No-one had that kind of money and power. The capital to force ‘Speed Killer 12: Mission Creep,’ the highest grossing, most immersive gaming experience on the planet, to pause gameplay and pump infomercials into their customers’ brains. And, i...

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“Pulling Strings” by Claire Marsh

Submitted to Contest #242

If Willow’s grin got any wider, it would capsize her face. Archie watched her jigging on the stool like a child made to wait before opening presents. He had about as much chance of getting out of this as he’d had persuading her to take one bag on their honeymoon.  “Come on, you know you’ll love it once we’re there,” she said from behind the laptop. “I never, ever said I loved any of them. I’d rather be hiking to a beautiful waterfall, relaxing in a pool, or visiting, I don’t know, a proper museum.” “Nonsense. You made me go to that ...

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“Cole's Girl” by Claire Marsh

Submitted to Contest #241

Cole held firm despite the throbbing old football injury, the dozens of strangers gawping. One knee numbing against damp pavement, both arms stretching an open ring box to grey sky. He waited.The laws of science had fled. Every second warped into hours and memories filled them. On the same patch of pavement outside Harlequin’s nightclub, Cole had gone outside for air when a fight spilled after him. Bouncers had hands on blokes still clambering to throw punches and insults, bolstered by their mates joining in. They’d trapped and dragged rando...

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“Being Better, One Cranberry at a Time” by Claire Marsh

Submitted to Contest #231

Number 1 - Stop holding grudgesSome random woman in a supermarket blocked the dried fruit and wouldn’t move. It was a week before Christmas, I was stressed, supposed to be working full-time, shopping, hosting, planning, preparing, wrapping, being civil, having good will, being happy, not stabbing people’s faces with sporks in the queue for fish and chips. I had my niece, Whisper (yes, I told my sister it’s a stupid name, especially when shouted), in tow. But they’re excuses, I know that my behaviour was extreme and entirely my responsibility...

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“20 questions younger me should have asked my mother” by Claire Marsh

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #230

1.    If Santa is magic, why does he need a budget?2.    If human babies come from storks, where do stork babies come from?3.    When you say, ‘all vegetables,’ qualify exactly what you mean? Follow up queries:a.    Are vegetables weighted equally? (Two brussels sprouts must be worth at least thirty peas. That’s just rudimental cruciferous equational-modelling mathematics.) b.    What is your stance on potatoes? Do they count as a vegetable? (...

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“afterLIVE” by Claire Marsh

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #221

Three, Violet dragged her tongue across her top front teeth, last chance to remove any stray lipstick. Two, she straightened her posture, ‘shoulders back and bust to the judges,’ her mother’s pageant mantra clanging in her ears. And…“Well, hello there, you’re so welcome to afterLive, now let’s spend forever together! I’m Violet Misstep and this handsome devil is my co-presenter, and dearest friend, Benjamin Golightly.” Leaning across just enough to flash some well-scaffolded cleavage at camera one, she placed a hand on his arm. It was always...

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“Vanity Unfair” by Claire Marsh

Submitted to Contest #218

‘This despicable establishment needs to be held to account. You are responsible for destroying future memories, the stories one tells one’s grandchildren. You ruined what should have been the happiest, most significant night of my life…’ Benjamin Coben-McGinley, the third’s, two fingers punched the keyboard hard enough to bruise. Every strike rippling the surface of his double espresso as it vibrated through the antique, hand-carved mahogany writing desk that once belonged to William Makepeace Thackery. He winced as the brim of the small...

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Author bio

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Shortlisted 3 stories ⭐️

Contest #248
Persuasion – read story
Contest #230
20 questions younger me should have asked my mother – read story
Contest #221
afterLIVE – read story