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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020
Submitted to Contest #99
It was almost time for the festival, and the streets were alive with excitement. The lamps were glowing a little bit brighter every day in anticipation for the most coveted day of the long year. It was so easy for the citizens to fall into this eager stupor as they went about their usual business in the run-up to the festival. The festival was, after all, the best day of the year. It was no contest. For one day every year, every citizen put down their toils and troubles. There was no work, no school, no strife. Even the bitterest of enemie...
Submitted to Contest #98
The most beautiful feeling flooded into George's body, warming and tingling radiating from his heart and outwards. Carried through his blood, it washed through his veins, affecting every body part. It even got its hooks into that familiar hollow pit just north of his stomach, and suddenly he didn't feel so empty anymore. It was the feeling of going home. "Going home," he turned the words over in his mouth, tasting them. They tasted good. He fiddled with the thick card-stock note, flipping it over, making sure it was real. It had the ri...
Submitted to Contest #78
“I’m bored again,” They announced into the empty void where they lived. It wasn’t just a room that happened to be so empty that it was practically a void. A room with matte black walls so one couldn’t tell if they were walls or just the endless darkness. It wasn’t a metaphor or hyperbole. It was actually a void, where They lived. “They” of course, wasn’t their actual name, but we may as well capitalize it because They didn’t have a name. They was just — well — there. Maybe. It’s all rather confusing, to be honest, and neither you nor I hav...
The light just appeared. Well, the lamp was already there, but light emitted from it suddenly and without even a flick of the switch. In fact, the switch didn’t move. Inside the wall, the circuit remained broken. But the light was on. William smiled to himself as he sat on his antique leather armchair in the corner of the room. The light above him dimmed and brightened. He watched it curiously. With a faint twitch of his wrist, the light changed color — what had been a soft white glow turned deep amber, then blue, and then green. “Honey, i...
Submitted to Contest #54
The rain cascaded down faster than the windshield wipers could push them out of the way. Martha squinted through the streaks of water that hid the highway from view. Not that there was much to see anyway — it was so dark that only the little pools of light on the pavement from her headlights were visible. She pressed her foot hard on the gas and sped on through the darkness. Martha didn’t have a destination in mind. She was just driving around, clearing her head. She needed it. It seemed like every day was another fight. Who knew raising a ...
Submitted to Contest #53
The sky had turned pink as the sun rose ever so slightly above the horizon. There was a chill in the air; Darren was glad to have thought to put on his black hoodie. He carried another cardboard box carefully out the front door. He left the door open, to avoid the creak that the hinges always made when it opened or closed. Darren was sneaking out. Almost all of his stuff was crammed into his rusty, blue Ford Taurus station wagon. He had filled up the back already, and most of the back seat too. He checked the time on his watch. “Damn...
Submitted to Contest #51
Robert sat on the edge of his bed. The room was dark, almost entirely, except for a sliver of warm amber light coming from the old green banker’s lamp on his desk. His hands were folded together in his lap. His head hung forward and his shoulders drooped down. He breathed slow and shallow. Robert had given up. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, his voice cracking and barely audible over the ever present hum of the furnace in his apartment. “Why?” asked a voice behind him. He turned suddenly to see a small boy, maybe ten years old, perched on the p...
Have I been here before? I think that I have. There’s something familiar about it all. That tree there — I feel like I know it very well. Or am I thinking of some other tree in some other park? I run my hand down the crooked bark, feeling each and every waving line and sharp, jagged edge. This is a familiar tree, I think. And the sound of that creek babbling by the exposed roots. Yes, I’ve been here before. I have touched this tree and sat beneath its great boughs, letting the cool water dance across my naked toes. That was a long time ago,...
“I have a superpower,” John said. Sally rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the start of any pick-up line she’d heard before, but she still could tell it was a line. She decided to play along anyway, she could use the laugh. “Oh really? And what’s that?” “I can read your mind,” he answered with a smirk. “Do you want me to prove it?” He leaned in closer to her, much closer than was comfortable. “Right now, you’re thinking ‘I really wish this creep wasn’t standing so close to me.’” “You’ve got the spirit, but not exactly the letter,” she replied, ba...
Submitted to Contest #50
An unassuming car is parked beneath a street light on an empty street. Two men sit inside, their fedoras pulled down low, the collars of their trench coats popped up high. Their faces are almost entirely obscure, but one can vaguely tell that the man behind the wheel is wearing a mustache. A neat mustache, trimmed short with just a hint of a waxed uptick on either side of his lips. The other man is presumably clean shaven, but perhaps has some stubble as though he hasn’t shaved in a few days. But that might be a shadow. They sit in relative...
The world had ended and Bobby was the only living soul that remained. He peeked out of the little window of his treehouse fortress at the desolation that lay all around him. It was quite a grim sight to see and it proved almost too much for the boy. He had to look away, hiding away from the window behind the blue bean bag chair where he used to sit and read on hot summer days. The landscape around the little treehouse was practically flattened by the force of the nuclear blast. Nothing of Bobby’s home or any house in his neighborhood survive...
Submitted to Contest #49
“It’s still raining. It’s been raining for three days now, and it still hasn’t slowed down. I think it’s actually raining harder than ever now. When will it end? I feel sorry for those less fortunate than us — those poor souls who have farmland down in the valley. It would take a miracle to save their harvests now. Maybe not though, it’s a lot of rain but wheat is a hearty crop. I’m certain that it will be fine. The Lord wouldn’t want us to starve. “I’ve been praying at every spare moment, asking how we may appease the Lord, what we did to ...
Submitted to Contest #46
“Congratulations, Joe,” he said over the phone, “you are officially a published novelist!” There was more to the conversation, but that was the only sentence that Joe truly heard. Joe was ecstatic. It was a beautiful day. After he hung up the phone he decided to go for a walk. So much had changed for Joe over the past five years. He hit rock bottom — lost his apartment and his job and had nowhere to turn. The voices in his head grew so loud that he couldn’t even think anymore. But somehow, he had turned it around again. He locked his front...
Submitted to Contest #43
I never should have decided to clean out the attic. No one ever cleans out the attic before they move. It’s a thing, like, and unspoken ritual that everyone just decides to ignore the fact that the attic is probably full of old junk when they buy a house. I know I never asked if the previous owner cleared out the attic before I bought the place. The inspectors said the roof was in good shape, so why would I care what was in the attic? But for some reason — some stupid, stupid reason — I decided that I would break the cycle of the hand-me-dow...
Submitted to Contest #38
It’s late afternoon in a quiet suburban neighborhood. It’s early summer, and it’s a beautiful day — warm, but with a nip in the wind. The wind is there just to remind everyone that the cold weather isn’t long gone. Two nearly identical homes stand next to each, a tall chain fence cuts through their equally thick, green grass lawns. Bob and Walter are each in their respective yards, enjoying the weather. “So, how are things?” Bob asks, the top of his head poking up over the fence that separates his perfect lawn from Walter’s. Walter shrugs, n...
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