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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2020
âHow are they today?â I cup her cheek with my hand, gently rubbing my thumb across it. I know her cheek feels warm and soft; she smiles up at me as we lay together. I move my hand to cup the back of her brunette wavy hair, cradling her beautiful head. Then run my hands through her hair. My fingers get caught slightly, so I carefully detangle it for her. I know it feels soft too, but right now I canât feel it anymore. Not with these hands. Iâm unsure how to tell her. I sigh and kiss her forehead, ho...
A woman in her late twenties with shoulder length dark brown hair, sits down at a worn mahogany desk in her study. A desk that once belonged to her father, the one he used to work on when writing his stories for his publisher. The one sheâd sit on as a child and enjoy hearing those same stories read to her, because he always valued her opinion. A large window is behind her, which shows a forest shrouded in moonlight and shadows. Sheâs surrounded by bookcases on either side of her. A small white table sits in the corner a little ways away,...
âYou know you canât keep doing this right?â He asks me gently, running the ruggedness of his fingertips along my hips. I try to relish in the warmth, but still, I come up short. Still feel cold. âKeep doing what exactly?â I murmur back, turning slightly to face him on the bed. He looks down at my form, his touch is light, but I can feel the weight of his desire building. Doesnât it always come back to this? He ...
All things end. Empires, stories, even love. They donât tell you that though, itâs like a secret initiation nobody tells you about. Until youâre already head over heels in love. Until itâs too late. They made Love out to be this thing, immune to end. But Love was a choice. You had to choose to love someone everyday because otherwise the feelings fizzle out. Otherwise you would come to the harsh realization that people and their feelings could change like the morning wind from fall to winter. Causing this bone curling chill that runs ...
Finally the sun rose, and with it shades of orange, pink, and purple to breathe life into a new day. Charles Punk sits on freshly cut grass, his hands pricked by the sharpness of nature. Charles is twenty-eight, with a muscular build that hints at years of routine gym sessions. He sits near a lake that borders the end of his property, the sun's golden rays begin to lavish the water with warmth. This same warmth caresses his freckled peach-colored cheeks, as the crisp morning air bites at his fingertips.Suddenly, he hears...
âYou said I have until your popsicle melts.â He says jokingly, with a hint of a sad smile.âYeah,â She says softly, looking down at the red sticky liquid running down her hand, âI know what I said. I was joking, mostly.âThey remain quiet for a few minutes, sounds of children laughing in a nearby playground and moms huddled in conversation of gossip fill their silence. Itâs funny, isnât it⊠The way heavy silence can fill only two peoples' world, while the rest of the world speeds on by with noise and...
The click of the lock and the creek of the door as it gingerly swings inward, leaves the faintest trace of a smile on Arthur Maudeâs weathery face. Arthur is sixty four years old, and has loved many things in his life. From things as simple as food or books, to things of greater consequence⊠Like money, or women. Though there has been one love, above all the othersâŠÂ The room smells like old books and hea...
âWeâve never been good at this, have we love?â He says solemnly, placing the tips of his fingers against the gentle warmth and softness of Olivia Barneâs cheek.This is her husband, Samuel Barne. They sit on a wooden park bench, surrounded by freshly cut grass, trees and the warmth of the sun. It feels like this could be a dream. And of course it is. Itâs the only way Olivia can speak to her husband now. In short dream sequences, or nightmares where his smile haunts her...
November 20, 1998 Launch of International Space Station (ISS)This Journal Belongs to Travis BinkleyGifted to him by his lovely wife... Stay safe. I love you. Can't wait to hear your stories when you've come back to me. - E.B.ï»żEntry One  November 21, 2000Words have easily captured the beauty of love, the suffering of...
 âWhatâs happening with your face?â A soft male voice asks suddenly out of thin air. A young girl, no older than fourteen, is sitting at the base of a large redwood tree crying. Sheâs in the woods that border the backyard of her home, surrounded by many redwood trees and fern moss growing along the floor and on the roots. The girl looks up, looking around her in haste to find where the voice has come from. She sees nothing around her but trees and shrubs. Itâs only when...
There was something about the way sunlight hit snow. Something overly bright, and quiet about it. It was as if in that moment the world was still, and Walter could use a still world right about now. He usually resided in New York, where people were always moving. Always rushing. Walter often mused to himself about this, âRushing to get to nowhereâ he would say. He works for a very successf...
âNo, I canât. I just canât do it.â Nicholas says quickly, standing up from his chair and walking gingerly away from his desk; where a large yellow envelope containing his finished manuscript and typewriter sits. His room is spacious with navy colored walls. Simple white painted doors that open out to a small balcony, can be found directly behind his desk a few feet away. On the other side ...
May 2019âWhenever you two are ready, we can begin. Please, make yourselves comfortable and donât hesitate to let me know if you need anything.â The interviewer, David Rakei was a sweet and gentle young man in his early twenties. David had finally gotten the funding needed to create his documentary on Love. The documentary was an in-depth look on...
There are some things which can be hard to live with. Things like loss or, regret. But especially heart break. We often take the best of ourselves, place them in unsteady hands, and just hope they don't drop us...There was a boy once, who I loved very much. We met in high school and it was like seeing color for the first time. Or, more so, it was like being wrapped in warmth after being out in the cold for too long. Really - I know that may be a bit cliche... So I'll let you know early on, it wasn't like the books. There was no sho...
Looking forward to creating and reading some great stories on here âșïž I appreciate any feedback, thank you for reading âš Ig: poetcjv
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