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EK Studios

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020

Stories (36)

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36 Stories

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"You Know What? I Quit."

EK Studios

I was halfway through microwaving my third cup of coffee when it happened.The moment.The click.The breaking point.My boss, Tim—the kind of man who uses phrases like “circle back” and “synergize” without irony—poked his head into the break room and said, “Hey, Jen, real quick—can you finish those quarterly reports before lunch? And also, can you jump on the Smithson call at 11? They had some concerns about the proposal and I told them you’d clarify everything.”He smiled, the kind of smile that assumes obedience, then vanished before I could a...

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"The Biggest Lie"

EK Studios

I stared at the crowd and told the biggest lie of my life.My voice didn’t shake. I didn’t sweat. I looked them each in the eye—row after row of expectant, blinking, breathing faces—and I said the words as if they were gospel.“My brother was a good man.”The silence afterward was respectful. Some people bowed their heads. Others wiped their eyes. A few nodded, the way people do when they agree with something they want to believe.But inside, I was cracking open.My brother, Ethan, had died four days earlier. Car crash on Route 6. Single vehicle....

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"The Choice"

EK Studios

He looked between us once more and said, “It’s either her or me…”His voice trembled, not from weakness but from the weight of his own ultimatum. I had heard those words before—on television dramas, in secondhand stories—but never in my life did I imagine they’d be aimed at me.Her or me.The woman standing next to me, Mara, didn’t flinch. She stared at him as if she’d known this moment was coming all along. Her silence felt like thunder, rolling between the three of us, shaking the very foundation of the room.Jacob had always been the calm one...

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"The Left Turn"

EK Studios

At the intersection, I could go right and head home — but turning left would take me…Well, I didn’t know where it would take me.I’d never gone left.Not in the dozens of times I’d passed through this sleepy four-way just outside town. Always right, toward my small apartment and my small life. Grocery bags in the trunk. Radio humming something forgettable. Right turn. Home.But today felt different. I had nothing in the trunk. Nothing to do. And, if I was being honest, nothing really waiting for me on the other side of that right turn.So I went...

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"Nowhere But Forward"

EK Studios

It took a few seconds to realize I was utterly and completely lost.One moment I was hiking the familiar trail behind my grandfather’s cabin, the scent of pine and damp moss thick in the air, the next—gone. The trail had vanished. No markers. No footprints. No distant sound of cars from the highway.Only silence. Not peaceful silence either, but the kind that presses in close, unnatural and watching.I turned in a slow circle, heart thudding. The trail I’d followed for years should have wound left around the boulder that now sat alone, surround...

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“The Quiet Draft”

EK Studios

The retreat was called Stillwater, though there was no water anywhere nearby. Just pine, hills, and a lingering scent of moss that clung to everything—your sweaters, your skin, even the notebooks you left on the porch overnight.Twelve writers had been invited. Eleven arrived.The one who didn’t was never mentioned again.Mara was one of them—invited on the strength of her recent success, a debut novel that had clawed its way into the public's imagination and refused to leave. She came not to write a second book, she claimed, but to think about...

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"Eleven Hours"

EK Studios

The email subject line read: FINAL DEADLINE: 11:59 PM TONIGHT. NO EXCEPTIONS.Mara stared at it, her stomach a knot of static. She had eleven hours left to finish the novel she’d spent two years starting and ten months abandoning. She was contractually obligated to submit it by midnight or return the advance—every cent of it—plus breach penalties. The figure haunted her: $28,000, a number that lived on her fridge in bold red Sharpie.She checked the time. 12:52 p.m.Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Nothing came.Not a word.It had started w...

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“The Night Draft”

EK Studios

Dawn was a curse.Julian Blake had tried every productivity hack known to the internet. Sunrise alarms. Blue light blockers. Coffee with butter. Cold showers. Accountability partners. Morning pages. Apps with timers and badges and smug notifications.None of it worked.From 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Julian existed in a state of conscious paralysis—awake, but incapable. He would sit at his desk, surrounded by all the trappings of a writer’s life—fountain pens, notebooks, an antique typewriter he never used—and feel nothing but dread.He wasn’t lazy. He w...

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“The Voice Between the Lines”

EK Studios

The first time I heard her voice, I was halfway through writing a sentence I hadn't thought of yet."The lamp’s light flickered, casting shadows like regret on the hotel’s faded wallpaper."I stared at the words on my laptop screen. I hadn’t written them. At least, not consciously. But there they were—my fingers on the keys, my breath shallow, as if I'd caught someone whispering behind me.I live alone. That’s important to note.Ghostwriting isn’t as glamorous as people think. For every bestselling memoir by an actor who can't spell “memoir,” th...

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Again

EK Studios

Again, the storm had come without warning.Wind howled through the gnarled pines like a voice lost to time, and rain lashed against the old glass windows of the Bellhurst Inn. Inside, the guests murmured uneasily over their half-finished meals, the lights flickering as thunder rolled like distant drums.Mara stood behind the reception desk, watching the barometer needle twitch violently. She had read about the strange weather patterns in this valley—how storms came and went in spirals, always on the same days, sometimes even the same hour. But...

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The Last Song

EK Studios

Lena stood at the edge of the pier, staring out at the horizon as the sun dipped below the water. She always came here when she needed to think. The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the wooden posts soothed her, but today, the calm felt like a warning.Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, her heart skipping when she saw the name. Max.He’d been calling her for weeks now. Ever since he left, he’d been sending her messages—sometimes apologetic, sometimes just plain pleading. She had ignored them all.But this one felt diffe...

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Echoes of Memory

EK Studios

Mara had always feared one thing above all else: being forgotten. The thought clung to her like a shadow, following her even through her most joyful moments. To Mara, the world was a place that moved forward, and with each passing day, memories of those who lived it would fade—like whispers in the wind, leaving nothing behind but silence.Mara lived in a small, quiet town where everyone knew each other’s names. It was a place where people stayed for generations, built lives, and eventually, disappeared into the earth. But Mara had a peculiar ...

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The Necklace of Memories

EK Studios

In the heart of an old town, nestled between cobbled streets and towering oak trees, there was a small cottage where the Ashford family had lived for centuries. Their home was filled with the weight of history, from the crumbling stone walls to the creaking wooden floors. But it was the heirloom passed down through the generations that held the most stories.It was a delicate silver necklace, adorned with a single, glowing sapphire. The stone had a luster that seemed to change in the light, shifting from a deep blue to a pale, ethereal glow. ...

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The Weight of Memory

EK Studios

Evelyn stood at the edge of the lake, the water rippling gently beneath the early morning light. She had come here every day for the last five years, since the day Michael left. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how long it had been — she had counted each season as it passed, each sunrise and sunset that marked the days without him. But the ache in her chest never seemed to fade.The old oak tree near the shore, where they used to sit and talk for hours, was still there, though its branches had grown thicker, the leaves darker. The bench beneath...

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The Suitcase

EK Studios

Maggie stood in front of the open closet, the piles of clothes around her seeming to mock her with their enormity. Her eyes flickered to the suitcase at her feet—a small, unassuming thing with wheels that clicked quietly against the hardwood floor. It had been her grandmother’s, a faded purple with scuffs on its corners and a lock that didn’t quite close all the way anymore. For the past three days, it had sat in the middle of her apartment, reminding her of the task she had to face.Fit your entire life in here, the letter had said.The lette...

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