Elle Rain

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

51 karma pts

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“Down Swinging” by Elle Rain

Submitted to Contest #105

Down Swinging Interviewer Set the scene. Describe what was happening before everything transpired. Indie The sky was in a dismal mood. It wept, watering the tall grasses and the garden behind the barn. I sat on a rope swing under the awning, pumping my legs in and out with the rhythm of the rain. Transfixed on the sky, I stretched my feet as far out as I could reach. Cloud-sifted tears ran down my ankles and bare feet. Behind me, deeper in the barn, sat an old AM radio. I could hear an old gospel choir trying to sing over the old machin...

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“Kenopsia ” by Elle Rain

Kenopsia From the Journal of J.P. McAnderson10/2/99I tried to keep doing things that made me feel as alive as humanly possible but it didn't remove the bleak reality of moving and the dead autumn leaves kept burying themselves in my hair and so I couldn't forget but I kept on trying."Goodby.." I whispered to the gentle grasses and the sublime swallows gracing breath itself with their haunting dances, but the beauty interrupted my speech. "Goodb..." I whispered as the walls wailed and hugged me tight against their chests, but then I bega...

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“Fire In Meaning ” by Elle Rain

Submitted to Contest #70

Sure, I was at the art museum when the robbery took place. Yes, I did watch it all happen. I guess I was speeding a little when the museum security was chasing my car. But only enough to deserve a speeding ticket, not an arrest. My name is Sly, and being under suspicion has become a daily occurrence. After all, I live in the town of Meaning. Meaning was founded in the year 200, when a man named Founder built a stone cottage on an island at the confluence of the Wealth, Power, and Success rivers. Some historians speculate that Founder was a...

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“Family Business” by Elle Rain

Submitted to Contest #69

She bolted out the front door and into the Tennessee heat. She sprinted over the hill, past the pond, and behind the white gazebo. Seated with her back pressed firmly against the trunk, she pulled a small legal pad out of her pocket. Spanish moss dangled from the oak tree above her head. After scanning for movement near the hill, she began to write. Ink smeared over the page and onto her left hand as her pen flew across the page. The ocean of tears pouring from her eyes didn't help either. Then she heard a booming voice echo throug...

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Author bio

Singer/Songwriter, Poet, Dreamer, Writer, and Mango Enthusiast