Menu

Menu
Prompts
Contests
Stories
Blog
Directory
Contests
Magazine
FAQ

David Sweet

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2021

Stories (7)
Comments
Library
294 Followers
141 Following

7 Stories

1235 karma pts

?

Old Man Buckhart

Submitted to Contest #224

The mugginess of night receded. A thin veil of blushing daylight clung to dark ridge tops under weakening clouds. A swift storm had moved through a few hours before. In its wake, soft gray shrouds rose among the hollows to greet the gathering dawn like resurrected spirits from some ancient sepulcher, accentuated by the ghostly refrains of an L&N steam engine pulling through nearby London, Kentucky. Lefty lay awake most of the night, mesmerized by the lightning but also lulled to drowsiness from time to time by the rain on the tin roof ...

90 likes 121 comments 121
Read story

Cicero, '59

Submitted to Contest #186

“Jimmy Dean Jackson, where do you think you’re going?“None-a-yer-business, Rosey Mae!”“If you get us both into trouble again, it’ll be my business!”“I’ll let you know when I need you, little sister.”“Little sister? I’m almost two years older than you! I know you just turned nine, but you know good and well that I will be eleven at the end of the month, little brother.”“I don’t need you taggin’ along. I’m big enough to take care of myself.”“You better not be headed off to go hang out with Stanton Burkhart. Uncle Bob and them haven’t lived up ...

54 likes 47 comments 47
Read story

The Essence

Submitted to Contest #176

Birth Moon reared its head over Black Mountain. It waxed nearly full as pale light spilled down the steep ridges, creeping among the dark forest. Wan light managed to flash in the cat's eyes, like a beacon turning on and off. Fearing discovery, the animal darted into dense, blooming laurel covering the mountainside.The feline slunk down the slope toward the cabin. It took a shortcut through low, thick brambles, heavy with ripening blackberries, seeking further cover. A rabbit flitted from the tangled thicket, fleeing the cat's ominous p...

43 likes 46 comments 46
Read story

SOUTHBOUND

Winner of Contest #168 🏆

SOUTHBOUNDby David M. SweetDoralea looked out the window of the southbound train. Mid-October leaves dappled the Kentucky hillsides in fiery oranges and burning reds, dull yellows and rusty browns with a few evergreens peaking through the canopies. Colors were made even more vivid by the morning sun and clear, blue sky. Flaxen sedge grass along with green tangles of weeds, brambles, and even a few autumn flowers blurred together as she shifted her gaze downward toward the edges of fields and fence rows speeding by next to the railroad bed. T...

156 likes 128 comments 128
Read story

Ardor

Submitted to Contest #135

The low-level ranger padded softly through the woods on mocassin feet carrying a cedar bow hand-carved by his grandfather, the only gift his grandfather had ever given him. He slung a quiver of arrows, with fletching made from hawk feathers, over his left shoulder. Moving quietly through late autumn leaves, he hoped to take the small band traveling through the valley by surprise. They weren't quiet. They argued among themselves as they ambled along the shallow creek. The ranger took cover behind a large oak and slipped an arrow from the quiv...

23 likes 11 comments 11
Read story

Ardor

Submitted to Contest #135

The low-level ranger padded softly through the woods on mocassin feet carrying a cedar bow hand-carved by his grandfather, the only gift his grandfather had ever given him. He slung a quiver of arrows, with fletching made from hawk feathers, over his left shoulder. Moving quietly through late autumn leaves, he hoped to take the small band traveling through the valley by surprise. They weren't quiet. They argued among themselves as they ambled along the shallow creek. The ranger took cover behind a large oak and slipped an arrow from the quiv...

16 likes 6 comments 6
Read story

Cold Tea

Submitted to Contest #128

"Shit. All I have left is Earl Grey. Is that okay?" "Sure," Angela replied curtly. She stretched and then succumbed to a long yawn, deciding to curl up on the apartment's only couch.  Marcus had moved into the bottom floor of this 100-year-old shotgun house just outside of Cincinnati three months ago. The grip of December made the original hardwood uncomfortably cold. To compound the problem, the fireplace did not function. He had placed a menagerie of candles on the hearth and mantle. Last night, the wax had slowly trickled down th...

35 likes 23 comments 23
Read story