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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2023
Submitted to Contest #223
Libraries are boring. I know, simply saying something that willfully ignorant is enough to make every boomer in the world clutch their pearls in shock and disgust; but it doesn’t make it any less true. No one my age actually or willingly reads books anymore. Sure, they’re foisted upon us in the classroom, and when we’re being monitored, we thumb through the weird smelling pages as we attempt to glean whatever information we can in the most archaic and painstakingly boring way possible, but it’s not like we’re thrilled to do it. On our ow...
Submitted to Contest #222
Angels Among Us By D.H.Irving “You’ve got this.” These words greeted the young man as he slowly peeked his head into the large, nearly empty room. Forty feet long by forty feet wide, the room itself was nothing short of an exercise in sterility. White walls, white floors and bare florescent tubing housed in long tin fixtures lit the room in a cool pale brilliance that lent more to the feeling of a surgical setting than the interview that he had been summoned to partake in. Stark and empty, there were no chairs or desks, nor couches or ...
Submitted to Contest #221
The Summoners by D.H.Irving Specters and apparitions danced across the darkened room; flickering shadows that spun and whirled chaotically in the sputtering light of the sickly-sweet candles that brought them to life. The low rumble of a constant, almost imperceptible chant slid rhythmically through the silence like a brackish ooze, filling the gaps of nothingness until the whispered words seemed almost deafening in the otherwise quiet room. Upon the floor, a crude pentagram had been hastily painted, its spattered lines...
Submitted to Contest #220
“A little bit of good.” D.H. Irving The old train trestle was in the middle of nowhere, and had been out of use years before we had discovered it. My best friend Mike and I had stumbled upon it when we were just kids, riding our bikes on some grand, pointless adventure that only youth seem to have the ability to embark on. It became our spot and our place to hang out; a secret fort of rusty nails and warped wood. We’d go there to get away from our parents, siblings, school, and above all else, any and all adult supervision. It was our oa...
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