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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2025
Submitted to Contest #299
‘Sorry I’m late. Someone tried to race me at a red light and I accidentally took the scenic route, proving my dominance.’ It was believable, but Rob could tell his boss wasn’t buying it. His excuses grew more outlandish by the week. ‘Well, then, I assume you’re staying late, to make up for the time you lost?’ His eyebrow quirked upwards, a look that said I-don’t-care imprinted on his features. ‘Well, you see, I would…’ Jamison rolled his eyes, silencing him with a wave of his hand. ‘Whatever. This comes out of your paycheck, you know that. G...
Submitted to Contest #298
Millie didn’t know her neighbour. Ever since she moved in two years ago after her mum’s death she’d only seen him once or twice, lingering by the window that was draped with cobwebs and splintered with cracks, overlooking the dry, yellow grass and bare bushes with skeleton-arms that looked like they had been struck by lightning. He always had a sorrowful look on his face, a wistful longing that made Millie curious, a mouth always a tight line over sunken eyes. So she asked about him at school.‘Do you know my neighbour?’ She asked the swarm o...
Submitted to Contest #297
My suitcase bumped along the path behind me –my entire life folded up, tightly packed in the tiny, green-shelled four-wheeled case I dragged along. It had a scratched exterior even though I could count on one hand how many times I had used it –it must have belonged to someone else before me. But still, I had left a life’s worth of memories left behind, the fragments I was bringing a jarring reminder of what I had lost. ‘Hi, my name’s Adeline Stewart. I’m moving into apartment 13A today.’ I watched as the receptionist’s brow furrowed, lines c...
Submitted to Contest #296
Each flower was cultivated to perfection –their stems tall, the budding heads displaying bright purples dotted among the white petals, yellows and lush greens bursting over the edges of the garden. Dirt had lodged under Clara’s fingernails, in the creases of her hands, smeared across her forehead, intwined with the sweat that clung to her face, but she stood back, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. Among tufts of vividly green grass, several large patches of lilies battled against the gentle wind, standing together like a united crowd....
Submitted to Contest #295
Myrtle shifted uncomfortably, scratching her neck. She wasn’t sure why the formalities were still necessary. She wore a long, black dress that swished down by her ankles, covered in sock-like black tights. A black scarf was wound around her neck, and she carried a tiny black umbrella, that wouldn’t be useful in keeping the rain out if the dark clouds above decided to open on her.‘Hi, Myrtle. Thanks for coming.’ Mrs Hartnell greeted Myrtle with a sort of watery smile, her eyes soft and untouched by the gesture. Her hands were clasped together...
Submitted to Contest #294
You know that one story that’s whispered behind closed doors, that you’ve heard more than once, that plagues a small town enough to become it’s reputation? Well, in my town, I was the story. I was the one who disappeared. People talked about me. People gossiped and laughed. How do I know this? Well, I watched it all happen. I watched myself go from the topic of all conversations to an unsettling feeling in the background, fading with time. I watched as I vanished from the world, my mark waning, until I was the urban legend the town passed do...
Submitted to Contest #293
I’d never been on an overnight train before. I’d only seen the cramped carriages in movies –two characters sharing one or two small beds pressed right against the wall, barely enough room to stand between them, people stacked together like sardines in tiny compartments. The train company caring more about emptying wallets than the quality of the carriages. But this one wasn’t like that. I had a bed that was big enough for me to comfortably stretch out facing a large, square window with shades I could pull down during the night, similar to th...
Submitted to Contest #292
The man stands in front of the painting, a faint smile tugging on his lips. It’s positioned in the centre of the gallery, the main attraction, the masterpiece. His masterpiece. Well, he didn’t make it. But he found it. He recognised its eternal beauty, older than anyone who would ever see it but somehow still as young as when it was first made. A happy accident, many would call it, if they ever knew its true backstory. How it came to be hanging in the middle of the gallery in the twenty-first century. But of course, no one could ever know. T...
It was like I was staring into the eyes of a mannequin. Her eyes were dull and glossy, her face a pasty white and beaded with perspiration. Her lips were chapped and her skin was pulled tightly over her thin frame.‘Water, please, darl,’ Mum croaked, reaching out and placing a bony hand on top of mine. My heart sank. It killed me to see her like that. It killed me to watch her vomit every morning, hunched over the toilet, her frail body heaving out watery vomit flecked with blood. ‘Please let me take you to the hospital. I’ll get the money fr...
Submitted to Contest #291
Bright lights glare at me from overhead. My back aches and my mouth is dry, like sandpaper. I try to speak but my tongue flops helplessly in my mouth. A strange gurgling sound erupts from the back of my throat. Long, matted hair tickles my neck. My vision begins to sharpen. I’m in a bed. There’s a machine beeping beside me and something over my mouth, hissing gently. I can see my reflection off the polished panels on the ceiling. But something seems off. I don’t recognise myself. How did I get here? And why do I look like that? THREE DAYS EA...
Submitted to Contest #290
He was kissing me.It was magical, it was incredible, and it was forbidden. It made fireworks explode inside me and my heart race and my worries melt away, just for that moment. I wanted to make it last forever. I wanted the moment to freeze in time and be forever immortalized in a photograph, to collect dust on a shelf but never fade.‘You have to go,’ Nolan murmured. ‘I know.’ ‘Space is waiting for you.’‘I know.’ Anything, anyone could have been waiting for me. But in that moment, I didn’t care about the challenges ahead or the struggles I’d...
Submitted to Contest #289
‘So, tell me about yourself, Megan. Do you have any hobbies? Are you interested in anything? Apart from videography, of course.’ I forced a tight smile over gritted teeth as Ross grinned lopsidedly at me, as if we were sharing an inside joke. We weren’t. I’d met the man barely ten minutes ago when he waved me over at the small table-for-two inside a lavish restaurant –the walls lined with artwork over the fuzzy, maroon wallpaper, yellow chandeliers hanging from the ceiling casting shadows like spiderwebs that shifted across Ross’ face as he ...
Submitted to Contest #288
The rain drummed on the concrete pavement as I stood beneath an old oak tree, its leaves doing little to shield me from the downpour. My jumper clung to my skin with a strange, sticky heat, like the weather couldn’t decide if it wanted to be a hot or a cold day. My hair was clumped together around my shoulders, my face stained with tears I thought I had left behind. A recurring reminder of the anguish that constantly hung over my head, the weight of the world, left for me to bare alone. Ten years. It’d really been ten years, yet somehow no t...
The wind beat against the house, picture frames on the walls rattling, hailstones as big as golf balls pelting against the windows. It felt as if the ground beneath my feet could open up at any second, engulfing me in nature’s wrath.I was screaming, but I couldn’t hear my own voice above the noise. My lungs heaved and my throat burned but my mind was poisoned by fear and running on adrenaline. ‘JASMINE!’ I screamed, my voice spiking with anguish. The T.V was blaring in the background, an old, balding newsreader rambling on while an extreme w...
Submitted to Contest #287
The frigid breeze instantly subsided as I stepped into the café, the blasting heat hitting me like a slap in the face. The buzz of the outside world, fresh on a Monday morning was replaced by the soft hum of conversations, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the barista yelling names while holding a small cup or brown paper bag with a pastry in it. ‘Morning, Arial. Can I get you your usual?’ Jane was my usual barista, with her sleek, dark hair swept into a messy bun behind her head, a red apron with dark, coffee-coloured stains tied over ...
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