Dylan Miner

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2022

Stories (4)

4 Stories

77 karma pts

?

“Christian Haikus ” by Dylan Miner

Submitted to Contest #178

If I meet you for the first time and tell you my Dad died when I was twelve, I’m trying to rob you. Fermentation kills shit like me. Would this bottle of wine taste as good if he was still around? Who’s to say, but there’s definitely something romantic about sucking down a bottle of wine outside, meandering, whistling and taking swigs like I’m in some sad movie. I find drunken happiness can often turn a two-buck chuck into an elegant vintage. These old houses and their red and blue and yellow and green lights keep telling me so. They’re b...

Read story

“Where's the Bathroom?” by Dylan Miner

Submitted to Contest #177

“Bwat bre bou baying? Bi bannot bunderstand bou!” Of course Banthony couldn’t understand her, Zarah was not speaking Bibish. Where she comes from, no one does and no amount of frustrated and slightly sardonic Bibish would get him or her closer to thoughtful communication. “Zhis zis zointless.” She turned to face the cell wall, crossed her arms and dropped her rump on the cement floor, trying to relax her furrowed brow. She hoped her cellmate pacing behind her could understand what that gesture meant: “Ze’re zoomed”. Banthony had ...

Read story

“The Man In The Glasses (Who Could Not Remember His Own Name)” by Dylan Miner

Submitted to Contest #140

“I remember nothing.” The man said. He was sitting down in an inch-high pool of water, more of a puddle really. There was some moss growing around its edges and a lily pad or two floating around. Beyond the puddle was an expanse of uncertain shapes and colors. “You must have some recollection.” Another man said. He was standing beyond the rim of the puddle. He pulled the tips of his sagging glasses back onto his eyes and squinted. He was struggling with his sight, more so than he usually does. All he could see was a blur sitting in...

Read story

“Time In the Seed” by Dylan Miner

Submitted to Contest #139

“Grow up.” Ms. Veemothe said, “You’re almost eleven years old, this is unacceptable behavior. You cannot act like this, do you understand?” She didn’t get an answer, but she did receive silent indignance. She burned two eye-shaped holes through her son’s forehead, hoping for an explosion of some sort. After the fit little Goldy just threw, combustion seemed a fitting punishment. No such thing transpired and Mrs. Veemothe retired from her son’s bedroom with a sharp thwap of the door. It left the whole house shaking, shelves and frames and the...

Read story

Author bio

Dylan Miner has not written a bio yet!