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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2024
Submitted to Contest #290
The smell of bacon.It reaches you even before the plate arrives, before the woman slides it in front of you. Bacon, cooked extra crispy of course, just on the edge of burnt. The sausage and two sunny side eggs are just for show. You come here because they know how you like your bacon.Well, that and because it’s on the way. But for now we can focus on the bacon. We don’t have to go there yet.I watch you close your eyes and take in the scent, as I have so many times. For a moment there is bliss on your face. Your troubles drop away and they ta...
Submitted to Contest #282
Dearest Mary, You were right, I should not have come. I confess, the labyrinth’s outer reaches do not provide the excitement I had anticipated. Our days are drudgery. We trace and map the walls, try to measure the open spaces using sonar, but each new passage contains no more adventure than the last. The caverns, with their eerie silence, are worse. The lonely clicking of a few conscripted explorers does little to battle the silence. Even the dangers of hazards such as pits or rockfall, become mundane. Background concern to the true en...
Submitted to Contest #281
In this world, there is magic. Old magic. Just learning about it, your hair will turn white and your toenails will curl. Even telling tales of such magics demands much, from both listener and teller. This is not one of those tales. This is a story about me and my mate Herb, and our friends. Or really, it’s about Herb, because I’m kind of Herb, but also kind of not. I’m the talking bit of Herb, you see. Herb can’t talk because, well… he’s a pub. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Herb wasn’t always a pub. Once upon a time, he was a whimsical hig...
Submitted to Contest #280
“Don’t you deserve a vacation?” A beautiful woman strides toward the camera, the TV-perfect epitome of a successful businesswoman. Dark hair gleams under studio lights in a styled shoulder-length bob. Crimson lipstick frames a dazzling ivory smile. Her tailored dark skirt suit and crisp white blouse are cinched by a black belt which emphasises her hourglass figure. Her piercing blue eyes seem to look straight through the viewer. “I’m Karen Rinehart, CEO of the planet of Paradise,” she says, her voice a rich, melodic. “And I would like ...
Submitted to Contest #279
I am drowning in a churning sea of memories. As each experience finishes, no, before each finishes, I am thrown into the next. I am a mother watching my child run through rain soaked grass. The delighted laughter at mud squelching under their feet fills my heart with joy. I am confused. I feel no heartbeat. Do I have a heart? Is this my memory? I have no time to reflect, the next memory consumes me. I stand in darkness under a canvas gazebo. The immense sound of it on the thin, inadequate layer of cloth drowns out everything else. I am soake...
Submitted to Contest #278
Julian Today If anyone were watching, they’d find it difficult to tell whether Julian was man or a statue. He stands by his dining table, in his modest single bedroom apartment. He stares at the envelope he’d left there the night before. His name is etched on the front in blue ink. Swirling perfect letters, the penmanship announces their author without need to unseal the envelope and read the contents. Julian isn’t sure he wants to open it. It’s been many years since he’s dreamed of her. Perfect green eyes that see inside him. Bu...
Submitted to Contest #271
Robot stands in his cubicle, delaying stepping onto the charging station. Procrastination is not in his nature, but the decision Robot is about to make is risky. When Robot steps on this platform, he will be overwritten. Robot knows the Academy has been watching. Robot has been here too long without using the station. He has been talking to the wrong bots. The doctors are going to reset the others, he’s sure of it. Unless Robot does something. Unless it’s Robot who is reset first. Robot reviews his checklist. That is all he will call it. Cal...
Submitted to Contest #270
Simple food In the dining room of a small country cottage, a table is set for four. A chequered tablecloth covers a rustic wooden table. Each place holds a cloth placemat under a white plate, with spoon, fork, and a napkin. Simple setting for simple fare. Alice looks up as she places a fresh baguette on the table beside a bowl of pasta. The boys enter, carrying a bowl of steaming tomato sauce. The smells of cooked tomatoes, garlic, basil and chilli intertwine to fill the air. Alice’s husband, Barry, walks a step behind their son ...
Submitted to Contest #265
Dear Mrs Tanner Dear Mrs Tanner, I want you to know, I’ve read all the letters you’ve sent me. I haven’t replied before now because I didn’t believe I had anything to offer you. Then, in your last letter, you asked two questions: Do I think a man can change? And, do I believe in miracles? While you asked rhetorically, those questions spoke to me. The answer to both is yes. I’d like to tell you why. I want to share with you the story of the Miracle at Garden City Airport. Mo Drake This is not my story, this story belongs to my fri...
Submitted to Contest #264
“It was a beautiful ceremony, wasn’t it?” Click, click, click. An image of a woman, one of eight people seated at a circular table smiles at another woman, seated to her right. Click. “Oh yes, absolutely perfect!” The woman sitting opposite, smiling back. Theo’s finger beats a steady rhythm on his camera’s shutter button as he works the wedding reception. High end guests make obligatory smalltalk in the ballroom of a golf and country club. Plush carpets, hardwood tables in a crescent around a dance floor under chandeliers drippin...
Submitted to Contest #263
— Present Day — “I’m sorry” I say the words aloud, facing the place where I’ve just seen a flash of a reflection atop the Bode Museum. I’m sure that glint of light is you. The scope of a rifle? I feel you staring at me. I wish I could say more. There are so many things I would like to say. But this is far from a moment of redemption, and you can’t hear me. I wish I could tell you how strange it is to be the villain in someone else’s story. I turn and stride away. Towards the safety of the U-bahn. My path tracing the river Spree offers you a ...
Submitted to Contest #262
It’s strange to think that I’m going to see you again after all this time. I wish I could say I haven’t thought of you in a long time. I think of you often. As soon as the weather warms and spring gives way to summer, my mind always turns to Paris. To a particular moment. Paris in July was crowded and hot, with the midday sun keeping the summer crowds from being too dense. I thought I was going to step off the street, out of the summer heat, into that cafe and you would be there. I recall the sound of those little bells that warn the waiter ...
Submitted to Contest #261
For JessicaCoachTerror.The opening whistle of the 12-and-under girls soccer championship game sounds, and the ball is kicked around the centre of the pitch. Though I am far from the action, positioned on the defensive flank, my heart is in my mouth.What am I doing in the championship game? I’m terrible at soccer! Coach tried to settle our nerves before the game.“If you’re nervous, remember, it’s because you’re doing something you care about. You are all,” she looks directly at me, “valued members of this team! Don’t fight your nerves. U...
Shortlisted for Contest #260 ⭐️
A Lighthouse On a small island in a large ocean, morning mist rolls down the slope of a single hill which emerges from the rocky beach. Atop the hill is a lighthouse, dutifully warning passing ships of dangers lurking beneath the waves. This lighthouse has no human keeper, but it is not uninhabited. Robot comes to life in the morning. That is how Robot thinks of it. Robot does not wake up in the morning, ease into his day with a coffee. Robot does not sit at a computer to check headlines. Robot does not require any further stimulus than his ...
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