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Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2023
Submitted to Contest #317
One year is never enough. Four seasons. One trip around the sun. The cycle continues and it's never enough. Time eludes us, slips away unseen because there is no such thing as time, except there is, at least in how we experience things, and isn't that the same damn thing if it hurts us as much as it does? Time goes on. Time heals all wounds. Time is what destroyed me, ripped away the only love I've ever experienced and took Wren from me. Time doesn't heal, it murders and steals and cheats and lies to us each and every day when we're not payi...
Submitted to Contest #292
(This story is written as a diary entry and touches lightly on multiple heavy topics centered around loss.) Diary of: HOPEDate: ??? I've hated my name ever since I was a kid; ever since I was able to understand the irony, how unfortunate my life would be. Life seems like a comic series of unfortunate events, a cycle doomed to repeat until it inevitably ends in death. I can’t say that I feared death; like most people, I hardly thought about it at all, until reality reminded me that nothing’s forever. After I lost my husband, I welcomed death....
Submitted to Contest #264
The building appeared innocuous enough, a large gray commercial building, windowless in form without any logos or identification. The address was correct, the place I’d been told to go to if I wanted to see my wife–my future wife I corrected myself. It all felt wrong though, or at the very least, highly likely that this would all be a big waste of time. Still, I'd come this far. Inside the building was completely empty, in mid-construction that appeared abandoned months ago. “Great,” I said to myself. I tried not to be disappointed; I ...
Submitted to Contest #260
Author's Note: The following story contains sensitive topics such as loss and bullying. Thank you for reading with an open mind and being respectful. Sarah and I arrived at the Queen Victoria Orphanage on a rainy London morning. We were being transferred from a smaller orphanage because nobody wanted us. I overheard one of the caretakers say that this was sort of a “last stop” kind of orphanage, a place for “girls to go who didn't have a friend in the world.” I don't think that's fair. I do have a friend; Sarah, and she has me. We're not fa...
Submitted to Contest #250
WitchcrossingbyDenis BaldwinNOTE: I tried to use light touches given the subject matter and while nothing is gratuitous or even descriptive (I literally only have dialogue as a creative choice), I would like to mention that there is implied or stated violence for a brief sentence or two.“Welcome to Witchcrossing, women's asylum. May I have your name and the name of whom you're visiting?”“My name is Helen Ward. I'm here to see Miriam Abbott.”“I'm sorry. Ms. Ward, was it? I'm afraid Ms. Abbott doesn't receive visitors.”“‘Doesn't receive’ or ‘i...
Submitted to Contest #235
Jake remembered some important runs in his life, but this next one would be the most significant. It feels like every other run, every other moment, was leading up to this. Running had been Jake's life; now, it may be the last thing he does. Jake met his future wife in high school at their first cross country track meet. Tall for his age, Jake was lean at the time—gangly even—and didn't care for most competitive sports; he was only in competition with himself. That is, until he met Laura. Jake did everything he could to win her attention ...
Submitted to Contest #204
It’s a classic double cross. Except, the thing of it is, I see it coming a mile off because I’ve known all along it’s going to happen. I’m ten steps ahead and playing a different game entirely. The men involved won’t draw iron when the con goes down since it’s too crowded to get a shot off, and besides, no one’ll be the wiser by the time I’m gone. “Maybe I should elaborate,” I say to the saloon girl to my right. She bats her eyelashes, an attractive girl for sure, but only a distraction. “If you’d kindly,” she says in a voice as smoky as the...
Submitted to Contest #200
I’m here to track down a rumor. I’d heard there’s a man who grants wishes out in Las Vegas, the city of sin. Not just any wishes, mind, but one’s based on reality. You could no more ask to fly—unless you wanted him to grant you an airplane—than ask for immortality. This is a long shot, I knew, but at this point, I’m all out of options. It started in a bar in Chicago, like most fairy tales. Alcohol. Conversation. Gossip. The liquor flows, lips loosen. I was just trying to drown my sorrows by trying to literally drown myself with whisky. On t...
Submitted to Contest #197
“Fate is an accident, like a bad car wreck on a freeway. One minute you’re in control, the next you’re careening off the rails, crashing head first into destiny. The only way through is through, no going back to who you were or where you came from. Things are different now. You’re different. No choice in the matter, just the way things are. But what if I told you there was a way to level the playing field? There is. We’ve discovered it here at The Institute.” “My name is Rich Huxley, founder of said company. You see, the Law of the Multiver...
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