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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2021
Submitted to Contest #115
Small town newspapers are a great source for finding characters to write about. The following is a fictional conversation from 2019 with a person who appeared in the Alliance Register in 2021, a weekly publication from western Nebraska. Hi. My name is Daniel Jacobs and I live at the end of the earth. I know, most people figure the end of the earth would be on some spit of land sticking out into the ocean, or at the north pole or something, but on a ball, anywhere can be the beginning or the end. And it just so happens that where I live is ...
Submitted to Contest #113
“Oh my God! It worked! I was there! I was actually there!!” Aaron leapt from the bed and tore off the sensors attached to his head. He raced over to the EEG machine and tried to look over Sandy's shoulder as she ripped off the readout and started pulling at the pile of paper that had accordioned on the floor behind the machine. “What did it show? Could you tell? I wasn't dreaming, I'm sure of it. It was just so real.” Aaron's friend Tim was hunched over his laptop, fast-forwarding through video of Aaron asleep on the bed. “I don't think ...
Submitted to Contest #111
My name is Jane and I belong to a secret society. I was inducted after a friend found out that my ex-boyfriend, Ben, was spreading disgusting rumours about me around school. My first inclination was to confront him – have it out in the middle of the quad where everyone could hear him confessing that it was all a lie. But life doesn't work that way. Even if a boy admits something publicly, in private they say that they just did it to keep the crazy bitch from going nuclear, and the rumours get even worse. Boys always win. My name is Emily a...
Submitted to Contest #110
I first met Dean at Sal's Paradise Cafe, the local diner, in what was the closest thing to a skid row as there was in those parts. I had more time than money on my hands, so I was nursing a tepid cup of coffee and pretending to read the tattered travel guide I'd been carrying around for years when he walked in and took the seat next to me. Carla, the waitress, took a halfhearted swipe of the counter in front of him with a damp rag and put down a paper place mat with a cartoon map of the neighborhood and list of local businesses around the ed...
Submitted to Contest #109
CW: murderIt was four in the afternoon, but the sun was already down as Charlie pulled into a spot across the street from the old clapboard house. The air smelled of decay. Fallen leaves, long since faded to a late November brown, dammed the gutter leaving a rotting stew against the curb. He stepped over the morass and kicked his car door shut behind him. An old crow squawked angrily and launched off its perch on the power line. Charlie took a few more steps down the street, looking for a better way back across the puddle before deciding to...
Submitted to Contest #107
“What a morning I have had! Hooboy! This was one for the ages. Just a sec. Let me get myself combobulated over here. I got to sit. You know I'm not one to drink, but I could sure use a wine cooler to settle my nerves. Honey, this was epic with a capital P. I might as well tell you it all, cause you're gonna hear it soon enough. You know how things are around here. Do you see this? My hands are still shaking. I'm trying to hold them still. See? I'm telling you, I have been to crazytown and back today.It all started with Momma calling me this ...
Submitted to Contest #106
Fan Fiction “Can you believe this shit?!?”, Stan says to his friend Ryan who's standing awkwardly behind him, looking for any place to sit that isn't covered with dirty laundry, books or potato chip wrappers. “I mean, what idiot wrote this crap! Did they even read the books?” “Why are you bothering to read it, then, Stan? If it's so stupid, why are you even getting worked up over it?” Ryan taps on the glass of the terrarium, trying to no avail to get the corn snake to move. “Have you decided what you're going to do with Marceau?” The sna...
Submitted to Contest #105
The Trial of the Century I. The knock on the door was jarring. The few visitors always rang the bell, so the sharp staccato of bare knuckles against the hard wood split the morning. “Coming”, he called out as he scrambled to button his shirt and take a quick glance around the room for anything inappropriate lying about. The knocking cracked out again. “Jesus, I said I was coming!”. He was just opening the door as the policeman's hand was pulling back for another whack. “Dr. Brennan?” “Uh, yeah?” “So you are Dr. Brennan? May we come in?” “...
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