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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2022
Submitted to Contest #211
Arthur Marol sat in his study with an Agatha Christie novel on his lap. He had been reading the words for nearly two hours but his thoughts were far away. The sunlight which had illuminated the study earlier had gone with the hours, and the crackling fire was all that lit the words on the pages. His shadow danced with the flames across the wooden walls and bookshelves behind his chair. In front of him was a coffee table with a decanter, two empty glasses, and a wristwatch. Occasionally, he traded glances to the spread on the table and his o...
Submitted to Contest #174
*ABUSE* 4:00 am The paramedics pushed the gurney out of the diner and into the parking lot. The man riding it moaned as it ran over the bump of the front door. His eyes were swollen shut and a thin layer of dried blood glazed his face. The collar of his once white shirt was now a soaked crimson, fading to a light pink at his waist. His cheeks puffed as the neckbrace he wore pushed up against them and his knuckles bore battle scars. Behind the beaten man followed a young nurse with blood-soaked scrubs. He walked briskly across the lot and ...
Submitted to Contest #172
*Addiction & Profanity* The man walked into the dimly lit bar. Daylight pushed its way through the front windows, illuminating the front half of the room. Of the few pairs of eyes inside, most met his own before returning to their drinks. He made his way to a stool void of surrounding patrons for at least three seats. He sat on the cracked pleather cushion, pushing out its stuffing as he did. His unkempt beard was overgrown and the hair on one side of his head had been pushed flat by a pillow. The feeling of his arms on a wooden bar was...
Submitted to Contest #171
I parked my car in the gravel lot and walked toward the rusty “Scenic Overlook” sign. It was the same as I remembered. Though the stone wall of cemented stones looked like erosion had taken a toll on it. I rested my arms on it and leaned my head over the edge. Waves crashed far below, losing their never-ending battle against the massive boulders off the shore. I used to look at the view every morning on my run, but that was years ago. Back before Mrs. Leary. Back when I ran for myself. Back when I wasn’t running from anything. I moved...
Submitted to Contest #170
Noah and his dad, Stephen, had just taken their seats a few rows behind Cleveland’s away dugout. The game was against the Angels and had been on their schedule for nearly three months. They had gotten to their seats a little late because Stephen wanted to buy a hat, and Noah wanted a veggie burger which was only sold at one specific food stand on the second deck. It was the top of the second inning, Cleveland was down by one, and Trout was on deck. There was a smack of leather followed by a staccato yell from the umpire. “Three!” The Angels...
Submitted to Contest #169
It was a cool March morning, though the warmest it had been in recent months. Signs of spring’s arrival littered the trees above the porch behind the large home. There, at the white cast iron furniture set, sat Theo Hartman. The short round man sipped his coffee while he paged through a Nora Roberts novel. He thought he may have read this one before but wasn’t sure so he continued. The sunlight that peered over the top of his home and onto the pages disappeared behind the outline of someone's head. “Good morning,” he said without looking. ...
Submitted to Contest #168
The man sprinted through the empty subway station. It being mid-winter did nothing to prevent sweat from pouring down his back and soaking into his cotton dress shirt. The leather messenger bag jumped around at his waist, tugging at his shoulder as he ran. He scanned his MetroCard and resumed his race against the train. His loafers smacking the tile floor echoed through the empty halls. He turned a corner and saw his train stopped at the platform with its doors open. The automated voice saying “Beware of closing doors” called throughout the ...
Submitted to Contest #167
The boy sat in his bed, covered in his Buzz Lightyear blankets. Hunched over a flashlight-illuminated photo album, he flipped through the pages of polaroids. One day he’d go on sailing trips as his mother did in her youth, but for now, he was content with fanaticizing over her pictures. He had looked through these photos dozens of times, yet his excitement never seemed to dwindle. Worried his mother would catch him awake, he thought it best to call it a night soon. As if she were reading his mind, he heard the click of his bedroom light swit...
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