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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2023
Submitted to Contest #298
At age 57, Brad was at a crossroads. He sat in his idling Ford Explorer in the parking lot at Crossroads Bible Church, at the intersection of Routes 1 and 50. He thought he had shed all the tears he had as they lowered his wife of 23 years, his best friend, his confidante, his truly better half, into the fertile Nebraska soil in the church cemetery. Now, an hour later, beastly sobs and new tears rose from the well of his grief.It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Theirs was a life of shared joy, shared adventures, shared values, shared visio...
Submitted to Contest #296
I was chosen to bring you sunny days, gentle and plentiful rains, and clean air.I was sent to ensure harmony, prosperity and peace.I expected history to thank me for the revolution.My code name is Shiva, named for the Hindu god of destruction and rebirth. My mission was to take us to the brink.Time travel is not new. Some of the world’s brightest physicists understood as early as 2028 how to revisit the past, but agreed to protect that knowledge even from their own governments. Visiting and altering the past posed a far greater threat to man...
Submitted to Contest #276
I turned 21 awaitingMy Iran visaIn Istanbul “Go to Goa” mantraFilled my hopesAnd grabbed my soul The pie shops of Istanbul were full of backpackers. Listening. Speaking. Deciding. It’s not only a geographical crossroads, the gateway from Europe to Asia. On the Hippie Trail of the 1970s, Istanbul was the place to fish or cut bait: head overland to India or call it a gap year and go home. We’d linger over Turkish coffee or tea, playing games with matchsticks or folding paper swans out of gum wrappers as we listened to one colorful pilgrim or a...
Shortlisted for Contest #275 ⭐️
Neither dark nor light, blissful nor scary, embracing nor aloof. Here it just is. Cold but not uncomfortable, I rest on the earth, not a cloud above. The smell is of soil, millions of years old. It’s easy to imagine my space shared by spiders, snakes and other things that slither in the dark, but I’m calm and don’t fear them. Inches above, a ceiling of old oak, itself serving an afterlife here. This capsule made by man is comforting, if claustrophobic. To consider spending an eternity here conjures a terror just beyond my consciousness; I ke...
Submitted to Contest #269
Back in the corner, next to the busted bird cage and a bag of old shoes, sat a dusty Heineken’s box scrawled with “To Save” in black marker.Five moves to five attics, the box remained unopened, a testament to its uselessness and importance. It was time to recall why I saved it. I’m still new to Buddhism. Some of it seems sketchy, but a lot of it resonates as I take stock of my life and try to make sense of why I’m here. Buddhism teaches us that renunciation is a prerequisite to enlightenment, and I’m on a mission to renounce a lot of stuff. ...
Submitted to Contest #262
So every year my family has the same vacation.Dad loads the car up with all the fishing stuff, including enough rods and landing nets to supply a couple more people if we wanted to. But we don’t ask anyone else to come. His focus is on fish, not friendship.Mom brings a stack of Alfred Hitchcock and Ellery Queen magazines. Mikey has his toy Roy Rogers and Dale Evans with their horses. I call them his cowboy dolls, but Mom and Dad say boys don’t play with dolls, so they can’t be dolls.Once Dad fills the trunk of that ’63 Galaxie with fishing s...
Submitted to Contest #256
Sidney Short was a guy constantly looking for the big payoff.Higher education, marriage to the girl next door, a house in the suburbs, a corporate career. All chump change.Sid knew he was destined for the best or nothing. He collected rags-to-riches anecdotes the way someone else collects baseball cards. Plenty of evidence showed that hard work wasn't the way to get the big bucks, the fame, the girl he wanted.When he was growing up, Sid’s home life was all or nothing, with nothing being the norm. His father left soon after his younger sister...
Submitted to Contest #234
“Do you believe in time travel?” Marty cradled his wake-up cup of coffee across from her at the kitchen counter. Forty-five years together had fused them into a sounding board as familiar and as comfortable as their own consciences. Louise was comfortable and familiar as well in her silk robe and loosely tied hair, half undone and trailing across slim shoulders. Her features had aged, but her soul remained that of the girl he fell in love with. “Time travel. You mean like a time machine?” “No. More subtle. I don’t normally remember dreams. ...
Submitted to Contest #230
The Green Flash By Dan Ward The rooster must have eaten a chili this morning. He sat on Carl’s unscreened window sill and crowed like he owned the morning. At the first flicker of morning light, the beautiful but totally moronic bird crammed his noise into Carl’s unwelcoming ears like an old guy on a Harley. “Asshole,” Carl muttered, cracking an eye. It was Monday, the day after Rita’s cleaning day. Three days a week, Maria cleaned his house, which was three rooms in a concrete shell on the edge of the sandy bay known as Boca de T...
Submitted to Contest #227
“It’s not the heat; it’s the humanity.” Gus mixed wit with his margaritas. “Back home, this time of year, people turn colder than a witch’s tit. It’s bad enough that the Artic wind will make your teeth hurt. Your breath forms icicles on your mustache and you get brain freeze without even sucking down a Slurpee. Even with insulated boots and gloves, your toes and fingers go numb. Lots of folks there forget to have fun when it gets cold.” The waiter came by, gesturing at his empty glass. “Uno mas,” Gus said, shifting on his stool at the beachs...
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