Collins Jerry

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2021

Stories (4)

4 Stories

105 karma pts

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“The lier's mind” by Collins Jerry

Submitted to Contest #89

As I wash traces of my tears on the bathroom sink,I know they won't be the last, but at least the new ones will find a fresh face and this one's will be different because they won't be for the world,they would be mine, because I have chosen me.I enjoy their anticipation as I watch the stretch of their faces,a smile, everytime I tell them a lie that they will come to believe, and I don't mean to say that I have some psychic gift of knowing this,it's just that the story I tell them, was one I had already told myself time and time again till I ...

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“Morality vs life” by Collins Jerry

Submitted to Contest #88

When time is ripe,life will make you a judge,a decision to choose between life and morality which one takes the hang.The wet pavement creates a thud,on every footstep he makes,a dull rythm that once and again draws him from his mind to enjoy this childishness that man never seems to let go, but it's not enough to move him further to observe all around him are countrymen running to shade from the rain ,he is oblivious off.Nairobi in 1980 was quiet, a new regime had settled in gracefully but not peacefully. A coup planned by young officers of ...

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“A face of change” by Collins Jerry

Submitted to Contest #85

Her body trembles as the soft voice of the speaker calls the letters of her name.She fights the fear that rises with each applaud.when the lady next to her stands,she realizes that she is expected up the stage,she forces a smile and heads towards the red carpeted small stairs.The applause gets stronger,now mixed with olulation and a chant from somewhere it catches on.On the final step she feels the grasp of an embrace,this startles a little,the embrace is from Stellah Mwaniki,the director of inua dada, an organization that advocates for wom...

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“Chance meetings” by Collins Jerry

Submitted to Contest #82

Somebody said that writers are slaves to conventions and standing their at the window he cannot but agree that the view has never changed.The shops rose to malls,the bodaboda shielded to taxis or were fixed with ambrellas but still he sees the old dusty town or does he see his memory,he is a writer anyway.There by the road he watches as a small boy chases his sister and their mother behind like a shepherd follows. The time approaches noon and the big clock ticks to remove him from his daydream at the window.As he turns his eyes spot the whit...

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Author bio

A lazy writer,but an obsessive reader