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Diana Quill

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2020

Stories (11)

Comments

Library

66 Followers

128 Following

11 Stories

286 karma pts

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Roses are Red

Diana Quill

Submitted to Contest #95

Fascination and curiosity. Her thumb pressed gently into the blade of the scissors, rewarding her with the terrible sensation of pain, an echo she had forgotten. Red burst up at the opening, and she watched as if from another body as the blood slid thickly down her outer palm opposite her thumb. Sap from a tree. She had never seen blood before. She was stunned at how fragile she was, at how her skin was so similar to paper that a tool intended to make snowflakes could also snip at her skin. Paper did not bleed, but did it feel pa...

11 likes

Kokopelli's Flute

Diana Quill

Submitted to Contest #87

“It began in the middle of nowhere, with the birth of a Hero.” Seb’s ears perked, aware of how this story goes. Its timeline ends somewhere wonderful, but at the moment Kokopelli always begins his story, Seb is slapped by the recollection of that which led up to it. “Koko, don’t bother the children with that old story. What about that one with the magical seeds?” His long dreads shifted as he looked up at her. They were like great black vines, recently with veins of silver hair as well. He was sitting, back curved, his flute dang...

23 likes

Clockwork

Diana Quill

Submitted to Contest #86

“Drizzie, hex nut.” Clever paws shifted through the droors accompanied by the gentle clinks and tinks of small metal pieces. A near unintelligible, silvery clack alerted me of his deliverance. I stifled a grin, glad for trained ears and trained animals. He’d set the nut in the silver tray, and as I reached for it with gloved hands three sets of feet grasped the edge of it. Fea, Thea, and Res, a well-oiled machine in themselves, waited in a feathery que, an hour, minute or second hand in each beak as naturally as if it were material for...

13 likes

The Traveling Assembly of Intergalactic Iguanas

Diana Quill

Submitted to Contest #84

Oliver loved three things in the world: iguanas, marine biology, and Rosemary. The issue is that these things did not always seem to like each other, as his job hours conflicted with his time with Mary and his iguanas liked neither his job nor Mary, but you must take into account that iguanas are of the type to like only three things as well: heat, food, and instinct, so in this way, they might be comparable to Oliver. Rosemary was of the type to love many things, but not all the time and never at the same time. Her on-off relation...

22 likes

Disease and Distraction

Diana Quill

Submitted to Contest #84

Living is a concept, a general word for being, breathing, and beating with your soul, lungs, and heart. The brain is of course involved with the processes of all of these, as well as every other wonderful, terrible, pleasurable, painful aspect of life. Living is being, as in being alive. In this way I suppose I, too, am living, because I am a being, I am breathing and my heart is beating. But, I will repeat myself: living is a concept. An abstract idea of what it means to exist. I believe that living and existing are two very dif...

19 likes

Silence, Sand and Socks

Diana Quill

Submitted to Contest #83

To Silas Densworth, silence is golden. Growing up in a loud, chaotic and broken family of fifteen, he learned from a young age to appreciate the finer things, such as personal space, personal belongings, and anything personal. Having ten siblings (whether wholly related to them or not) tends to create a rather territorial adult. So Genoveave took care of Lynn herself, as she took care of everything herself. She loved Lynn as she loved no one (except maybe Silas, for reasons she could not explain and her friends could not fathom). An ...

6 likes

Narrative of Wonder

Diana Quill

Submitted to Contest #82

The life of people is presented as an Overstory. They tend to present to the world the things they want people to see, the image they want to be viewed. In the rare cases where raw moments and secrets are shared (the Mid- or Understory of their lives), it is just that: above ground. No roots are penetrated, as they are not meant to be. Roots do not reach for the sun, for this is the job of leaves. People are like plants in many ways, and in this they share a common goal: to become taller, to grow, to reach the sun. People have another ...

20 likes

Green

Diana Quill

Submitted to Contest #81

Jordan:There were no butterflies. No, I felt like I was going to throw up. Anxiety stretched out the lining of my stomach, and I felt full and flustered. I can do better- I can do this. It’s just a date. My flatmate set this up. They always did, the type of social butterfly to give other people butterflies, whose conversations took flight with an ease that made me stand still with shock. So carefree, so easy-going, conversation and laughter flowing unbelievably effortlessly. More friends than minutes in a day, more numbers on ...

13 likes

Home Is Where the Hytte Is

Diana Quill

Submitted to Contest #77

Thea was well acquainted with the sensation that is burning. From cold, from heat, from ice, from fire. It always hurt, but there was something comforting about the familiar sort of pain that came along with stepping on snow with naked feet, or holding impressively frosted hands too close to a flame. Physical burning, she was well accustomed to. Anticipated it with elated apprehension, even, because cold hands meant snow, and snow meant winter, and winter meant joy, just as much as heat meant sun, and sun meant summer, and fire, and if put t...

12 likes

Sticks and Souls

Diana Quill

Submitted to Contest #75

I'd like to think that if I were human, I would have become a geologist. That future was so close, a minnow's breath away from gracing my fingertips, it's golden light seeping into my hands and tingling up my arms. And then I was thrust backward, as if taken by the scruff of my neck, and the happy left my skin. I was but a young soul, yet I knew what had happened. A new tingle at the back of my skull, a sense of purpose and duty that hadn't been there before, dragged me down with its own gravity, and I had been given a Task. One that would n...

7 likes

Heartstrings

Diana Quill

Submitted to Contest #74

Isn't it lovely when you can finally reap the rewards of hard work? Isn't it lovely when, after a period of perseverance, discipline, and doing of something mentally or physically exhausting, you can appreciate your efforts as well as yourself? Isn't it lovely to be able to think, "I did this. I am amazing."? They're rhetorical questions, really; of course, it's great to feel proud of yourself. People are so often consumed by self-doubt and loss of sense of purpose that they forget that a passion, a project, or even a person can bring them b...

13 likes