reedsymarketplace
Hire professionals for your project
reedsyblog
Advice, insights and news
reedsylearning
Online publishing courses
reedsylive
Free publishing webinars
reedsydiscovery
Launch your book in style
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020
Submitted to Contest #225
On my life I swore to do this, and on my life shall it be done… no matter the cost. My butler came into my chamber today. “You have not eaten in three days, sir,” said he with a trace of British pompousness behind his lackluster concern, “and I can see the jug of water just filled yesterday is gathering dust. The only change in its liquid level seems to be of evaporation.” “I’m fine, David,” I replied crossly. My left hand was gracefully tracing the outlines of a familiar shape on the canvas before me. My other hand was ...
Submitted to Contest #224
The orange and purple of the faintest glimpse of twilight had only just begun to creep over the eastern sky outside my window when I awoke. Truly, a magical thing. It’s as though God, the great painter of the world, has made a yellowish brushstroke just at the flat plain at the edge of the world, blending it in with the inky blackness of the pure night sky with a single masterful swipe. You’d think I was weird, of course, if I told you that I awoke this early of my own volition, on Sunday of all days. In fact, I set my alarm this earl...
Submitted to Contest #222
“Ah, who am I kidding, you’re not listening anyway.” David Cross swung back the brown bag and felt some more cool courage flow down his throat. “Y’know,” he continued regardless, you always said you knew the best for me… what do you say now?” You’ve done well, replied a voice, somewhat distant amongst the wind which whistled through the hibernating winter branches. David scoffed. “Well, yeah… Well enough to be sitting here on my ass, wondering how you are.” I’m fine. The bottle was done, this one at least. David put it ...
Submitted to Contest #205
Small towns like Turing are littered across the United States. Well, not exactly like Turing. There are any number of towns with a low populations and with just one set of shops in the town square, none of them having another branch. Many towns had just one elementary school which was also the middle school and high school. However, even though perhaps ten thousand such towns existed in quiet innocence around the continental US, there were none exactly like Turing. There were none that did things quite like they did. This little speech was e...
Submitted to Contest #204
Along the streets of Goslin, shops formed an even line of large façades. Their dark brown wood was long since encrusted with dust and pummeled by weather. If one entered Main Street from the east, the first set of shops would be the convenience store and the local paper store. Then they’d find a hat shop and a general clothing store. A horse supply store would be next, directly across from the local saloon. Most folks didn’t go much further than there on their first stop in Goslin, but if they did, they would find the sheriff’s office, a sma...
Submitted to Contest #188
Evan Locklear was having a fretful night of little sleep. As usual, he was in the only bedroom of his shabby house, moonlight revealing a spartan interior through broken blinds. His twin bed, far too short for his lanky frame, had a thin sheet which served as a blanket for him, and while it was perfect for the summer heat of North Carolina, the winter left him clammy and shivering. While that may have disturbed the peace of most people, Evan had grown used to it. What troubled him that night was not the weather, but the state of his life. He...
Submitted to Contest #186
This is the end. I know it in my heart, though I can hardly feel it beat within my chest. It murmurs softly against my ribcage, against soft folds of weathered skin. Where once vivacious strength and spirit had resided is now worn to destitution. Opening my eyes is hard; I remember a time when it was not - when the hues of the world were not so precious to me. I took it for granted, but of course that’s not too out of the ordinary, and now the colors I see in my mind's eye are tinged with yellowish decay. This is the end. “This is the e...
Submitted to Contest #185
If you had wandered into James Orton’s apartment, you may not have seen the clutter at first. His front door, an elegant, clean brown door, opened into a little foyer with just enough room for his three pairs of shoes and a coat rack which held two coats. He liked having a pair of winter boots, a pair of running shoes, and a pair of walking shoes. James never went to social functions, so he didn’t need anything more formal than that. His two coats were neatly hung exactly ten inches from one another so their sleeves did not touch at the bott...
Somewhere within a distant mountain sat a dragon atop a pile of gold. This was not a scary dragon, with rows of razor sharp teeth and talons the size of full grown men. This dragon had claws which it could at best use to scratch the scales behind its pointy ears, and while it did have sharp teeth, it had developed a liking for vegetarian options, particularly bounties of fruits and steamed root vegetables. It liked to add in the occasional pot roast or succulent grilled chicken, but on the whole it preferred the colorful, leafy kind of food....
Submitted to Contest #164
There hadn’t been many long drives in the life of Marcus Bourne. In fact, prior to this day, he’d driven over an hour just once in his life. That one time had been to steal away in the middle of the night from his home. Then, there was no destination. Away was the operative word in his head. He’d stayed at four motels, witnessed a dozen drug deals at truck stops, and eaten over twenty meals and roadside fast food shops before feeling as though he had covered enough distance, five days and thousands of miles later. Now, Marcus was driving bac...
Submitted to Contest #161
With the strict brick walls of Winthrop manor, a slew of guests had most recently been chatting in the parlor, warm incandescent bulbs casting a yellow glow over Victorian furniture and through snifters of cognac. Laughs were sickeningly bright, following from comments such as, “Well of course John could’ve gone to Yale, but we thought it was best that he go to Harvard, like his father… Besides, we wanted him at a real Ivy League school.” Mr. Hainesworth was a Yale alumnus, so he began the hollow laughter which echoed around the room. It ha...
Submitted to Contest #155
“In the case of Victor Daniels, we the jury find the defendant… not guilty.” There was a moment of damning silence after these words, in which not even a gasp was dared, though everyone in the courtroom was in utter shock. Hell, as detective George Alvarez watched the defense attorney, he could’ve sworn even that man had an expression of horror on his face for half a second. Of course, the lawyers recovered first, with the defense smiling and shaking hands, and the prosecutors grimacing with viper-like eyes. George recovered just afte...
Submitted to Contest #152
Not a whisper on the boots, thought Erica as her husband waved to her from the front door. Despite the blazing hot day, a scorcher even by South Carolina standards, his shirt was clean and his face just covered in a thin layer of sweat, almost like dew. Even when she kissed his slightly puffy, unshaven cheek and smiled, she saw the flicker of doubt in his blinding blue eyes - the doubt which originated from those boots. “Hi, honey,” he said softly, grabbing both her arms and returning her smile. “How was your day?” “Oh, ...
Submitted to Contest #143
As the afternoon turned to evening, Caleb noticed the clouds had thickened through the finely stenciled canopy of spruce trees. In the gathering darkness, they hovered above his campsite like massive totems, peering down at his solemn abode. The ground was littered with caramel colored pine needles mixed with white snow, half an inch deep at its worst. It was late March, and that meant it was the dominion of crows; their harsh tones provided the only auditory stimulus outside of the gentle whistling of the breeze. Caleb stared at the ...
Submitted to Contest #138
“Sorry, tell me again what happens when you turn off the lights?” A rattling breath preceded the answer. “Cold… I can’t breathe… The weight on my chest suffocates me… I can feel… the walls of my skull crushing my brain… No sleep.” An older woman in glasses scribbled a note on her pad, saying in a soft voice, “I see… And this voice you talk about-” “The voice of the night,” he interjected in a hoarse tone, feeling his heartbeat quicken. “Does he only talk to you when it’s dark?” Her brilliant eyes shone through her glasses.&nb...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: