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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2021
Submitted to Contest #192
It happened practically overnight. The Disaster, mother called it. Apocalypse, father said. My brother called it Ruination, but he always was a drama queen. And me? I didn’t call it anything until seven years later. Now I call it Salvation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Amy was not a person who woke up with anything approaching grace. She felt that alarm clocks were her personal enemies, and rising before 10:00 A.M. should be illegal and immoral. It was now 4:30 A.M.; the desire to smash the digital monster whining at her was barely subdued. Again. ...
Shortlisted for Contest #191 ⭐️
February 3, 2021 I will die in this house and no one will be here to see it. The thought comforts me. **************************** “You smoke too much,” Ash said, eyeing the full ashtrays in the living area. He plopped himself down on the sofa and waited for Portia to finish what she was doing. Portia took off her headphones and leaned back against the back of her chair, stretching, and rubbing her neck. She refilled her glass and drank deeply before moving to a chair opposite her brother. “You also drink too much,” he added. “I smoke the pe...
Submitted to Contest #189
Someone invented romantic love. Probably a woman. I hope she contracted syphilis and was drawn and quartered for her sins. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Well, it’s ugly and depressing and oppressive,” Talia said, touching a countertop and then wiping the dust from her fingers. “It has some good qualities, dear.” Layla drifted through the old country house, pausing beside a window and looking out. “Those were the good qualities, Lay.” Talia grimaced at the picture hanging in the living area. A richly-colored, fat bull gazed indifferently forw...
My good deed got two people killed. And it all started with a dame. Ain’t that always the way?****************************“You did the right thing, Booker. Can’t blame yourself for what happened,” Stella told me. I had just knocked back a fistful of gin and tonics and was feeling the effects of a lot of booze on an empty stomach.“You bein’ right don’t make it any easier to take, Stell. Raymond and Ophelia Murtaugh are still on slabs downtown. Just as sure as eggs is eggs, that rat bastard Kenny Palmer had something to do with it.”“Let’s get ...
Submitted to Contest #188
“If it weren’t for cilantro, I’d be completely happy,” Lenny said.The other members of the HOOD (Helping Others Overcome Depression) therapy group stared at Lenny. Some had looks of amazement on their faces, some nodded knowingly. Dr. Angstrom cleared his throat and popped an Altoids into his mouth.“That’s some bullshit, Lenny. Nothin’ wrong with cilantro,” Rudy stated.“Shut up, Rudy.” Belinda glared at Rudy after she spoke. She didn’t like Rudy; he was a pudgy, sweaty splodge of a man who always arrived at the HOOD meetings with alcohol on ...
Submitted to Contest #187
Rance Jenkins arrived in Muleshoe, Texas around 1:00 P.M. He was hoping to kill a man before the sun hit the horizon.Sweat and tobacco juice stained his dusty clothes, his blue eyes narrowed and searching. He spotted a pump handle by the horse trough and immediately took himself there. With a little effort, Rance had clear, cold water gushing out, splattering the dry street. He doused his head under the water before slaking his thirst. The July heat had settled in and was going to stick around for the duration of the summer.A cat sat on one ...
Submitted to Contest #186
The Texture of Love3:37 A.M.ur sexy11:57 A.M.Reno. WTF?3:22 P.M.Wantd to cum ovr4 sum lola luvlast nite3:40 P.M.Maybe 2nite.Take me out?3:41 P.M.Be thr at 7Me, slurping oysters. Reno staring. Imagines me doing this to him. A wink. Done deal. Saturday night. Reno happy. Reno satisfied. Leaves before noon. Oh Sundays. Terra cotta loneliness. Psyche, buttered and battered. Sweet, sweet Sheila. Saving me. Again.1:15 P.M.Lola dear. Uhome?1:16 P.M.Sheila, my sweet!Come over.I need you.Sheila. My adoration. My air. Love her, but not in love. Can’t....
In mathematics, the Fibonacci numbers, commonly denoted Fn , form a sequence, the Fibonacci sequence, in which each number is the sum of the two preceding ones. The sequence commonly starts from 0 and 1, although some authors start the sequence from 1 and 1 or sometimes (as did Fibonacci) from 1 and 2. Starting from 0 and 1, the first few values in the sequence are:[1]0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144, 233.(Wikipedia)Each paragraph in this story will have the number of words in this Fibonacci sequence, up to 23...
Submitted to Contest #180
Detective Jordan (GQ) Williams gazed at the body on the floor. Two shots to the chest. Quick, clean, efficient. He turned to his partner and asked, “Wanna help me out here?” Detective Harry Barnes did not want to help him out. He was sitting in a chair with a drooping frame and seemingly in pain. His strong and rugged physique looked frail, bent over with bowed head. “You hung over?” “It’s the eggs,” Barnes groaned out. A strident voice rose from the first floor and hit the eardrums of the two detectives on the second floor. Barnes muttered...
Submitted to Contest #179
December 23, 2022 Anna tossed a photograph onto Simon’s desk. The face in the photograph was lifeless and bloody, blank eyes staring into a camera they could not see. “It’s done,” Anna said, slumping into a chair and yawning. Simon stared at the photograph for a long time, his impassive features giving away nothing. After fully five minutes, Simon put the photograph into the shredder by his desk and looked up at Anna. Anna merely glanced at Simon before looking away. “Thank you, neshama.” “Happy birthday, old man.” Simon shook his head, fro...
Gail chewed on her pencil, shifted in her seat, and then quickly wrote down her first resolution. #1: I will stop smoking. She looked at the words, laughed out loud, and crossed them out. New words appeared. #1: I will stop smoking. I will smoke less, but I will smoke thoughtfully. I will enjoy the deep inhalation of smoke. I will savor the feeling of calmness that descends over me, and I will appreciate each puff of the magic poison as it leaves my lungs. Alissa sat at the same table as Gail, writing her own list. She didn’t chew her pencil...
Submitted to Contest #178
Cyrus looked out of his window and rubbed his eyes. The marble statue of his dead wife had, amazingly, grown a recumbent child at her feet. He rubbed his eyes again. Still there. Either a miracle had occurred or he had drunk an inordinate amount of cheap wine last night. He hastily threw on a coat and some shoes, tramping outside to determine which hypothesis was correct. Neither, as it turned out. Cyrus bent down and touched the figure. It was an actual human, but one near death. Her skin was as cold as the marble she was draped over and he...
Anna Bailey looked up at the towering office building briefly before entering. The afternoon sunlight glinted off of windows that didn’t open, warming the indifferent glass-and-steel exterior just enough to make anyone passing by feel uncomfortably warm. Anna wasn’t passing by, but she still felt uncomfortable, and it wasn’t because of the heat. The elevator ride to the seventeenth floor was a trial; it would invariably stop innumerable times to let people on and off. Today, though, the elevator didn’t stop until it got to the floor of her c...
Submitted to Contest #177
ÇÀÝÁÇ was the perfect place to vacation, and to forget about one’s troubles back home. Parker Goldring booked his flight to this tropical paradise, as much to relax as to evade his psychotic ex-wife. He understood her acrimony towards him because he was a slob, but he didn’t understand why she wanted him dead. He didn’t think he was that much of a slob. Parker tried to learn as much as he could about the ÇÀÝÁÇ language as he could on the flight there, but it was terribly difficult to understand; even the rudiments of the language were intric...
Submitted to Contest #176
“Good evening, sister. And where is our little Ravelil?” Luella sipped more tea and looked around for their niece. Hmph. Just like her to miss the evening restorative. The girl has become a leetle self-centered. “The devil only knows. Her car is here. Maybe she’s sleeping,” Jeruda said. She went to the window and pulled the thick curtains closed. The sun was still up and it didn’t do to let too much sun touch their delicate, ochre skin. The witches that did that wound up with skin that looked like the skin of mortals. The incorrigible Ravel...
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