Emmett Wrighter

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2020

Stories (18)

18 Stories

370 karma pts

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“Le MisĂ©rable PĂ©cheur” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #95

The pearls draped across her neck with all the elegance of a frozen waterfall, captured in that moment of stillness in a way that could set the heart aflutter and turn anything that touched his lips to ash
 For no! Nothing could compete with this utter perfection of beauty, and had he chosen to swallow that bit of hors d’oeuvre at that moment, it should have caught in his throat so he might choke on his hubris.But no, he merely sat there on the low couch in her boudoir with the morsel untasted and unchewed, caught by the flytrap of her sunli...

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“Single Flap of the Butterfly's Wing” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #95

You wake up early for work. Even your spouse isn’t up yet, and you struggle between the equally tempting decisions of snuggling back into their arms or going out and treating yourself to a nicer breakfast than granola yogurt and decaf coffee. The rumble of your tummy decides the victor of that particular battle, so you kiss your spouse on the cheek, whisper something sweet into their ear, and get up.It’s okay to take your time, but you end up getting ready at the same pace as usual. On your way out the door, you pause for a breath of fresh m...

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“Crystal” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #93

A single glass.Two ice cubes, each just barely more than an inch on each side so by the time they are served, they’ll have melted down to the correct dimensions. Wait a moment for them to settle on the bottom. Fill the glass with whiskey, and, if you’re daring, a splash of something else. Snakebite, maybe. Or vodka. Perhaps even a bit of crystal if you don’t have anywhere to be in the next week. Then finish it up with half a squeeze of lime and serve.When Davin stepped into the hotel ballroom that evening, he immediately picked out the tellt...

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“She Who Sleeps” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #90

“Kireama, wake up.”The mountain quaked around us as Isapoinhkyaki, the mother of my father, called out to it, her aged face creasing into a smile repeated as many times as there were wrinkles of her skin. She stood tall despite the years that threatened to bow her back, despite the trembling of her hands as they wrapped around my shoulders.I was hardly more than a toddler, then, and had begged my “Aana” to take me up the mountain to the “magical place”. She had told me countless stories of adventures as I grew up, of adventures, people, crea...

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“Cendae Mortis” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #89

“Goodbye.” The man’s eyes opened, and he inhaled, sitting up as he stared down the barrel of the gun centered on his forehead. He then shifted his gaze to the woman holding the gun, seeing the smile fade ever so slightly from her lips. Her finger loosened on the trigger of the gun and finally let it go. “I am going to kill you now,” she said softly. He flicked his tongue across his lips, wetting them. “What do you want?” “Did you think you could just walk away?” “Isabella, please-” She lowered the gun and stepped back slowly. He scramb...

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“Photos and Fishhooks” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #89

Wind brushed against chimes in the garden outside to send the polished rods jangling and clattering against each other before settling. Each bell-like tone seemed to start a song anew, and yet faded as quickly as it started, turning to another melody likewise cut short. Some found it raucous. Others, endearing. To the man sitting inside, nodding off in the plush divan couch that always seemed to smell faintly of moth balls and cleaning chemicals, they were the only shield he had against dozing off. Laying in his hands with the pages splayed...

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“A Girl Called Lenjimmy” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #87

They call her Lenjimmy Busker, and the first of April is her favorite day of the year.You didn’t know that, of course. By the time you had pulled in to the truck stop three hundred miles from nowhere, things like names and days and favorites had ceased to exist in your exhaustion-addled brain. You were dead on your feet and just about ready to keel over if not for the gurgling feeling in your belly. It was the kind of hunger that wouldn’t be satisfied by the half-empty bag of bugles in your passenger seat. The kind of hunger that needed warm...

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“Gifts” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #86

You always brought me flowers. It didn’t much matter what the fight had been about. By the time I lifted my face from inhaling their scent, I had forgiven you. Do you remember when we decided on that? It was the very first time it had happened; I’ll always remember the day. For once, neither of us were right nor wrong. Just upset and pained and unable to stop feeling upset. “You know what?” you said. “Let’s make a deal.” I had to fight the effort to keep from sniffling again. I hated the feeling after crying, where my face would be all pu...

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“Noblesse Oblige” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #85

That’s the thing about this city. Come on; I don’t really need to tell you, do I? Haven’t you seen it all yourself, even in these past few days? You may have tried to hide from their eyes with that useless silk curtain of yours, and I am sure your carriage muffled the sounds of the common rabble. The smell of shit in the street, the smear of blood or dirt on faces you tried to ignore it all. When that boy scrabbled at your door, begging for you to give him anything, you called out for him to be struck down and away. I daresay you’d have him...

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“Trust” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #76

“Will we ever be friends?”‘What?’“Without any of the threats. Wariness. Or manipulation. Without any of that fear that one of us will decide to kill the other. To sit, as we are now- but without knife in hand or guns beneath pillow. To share a glass of wine and not have to ferret out some sort of poison.”‘You’re asking if we will ever trust each other.’“I am.”‘I trust you.’“Hah.”‘No, truly! I trust you to act precisely as expected. I trust you will say what you mean and you will do as you say. You always have.’“Assuming one’s predictability ...

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“Resolutions” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #74

Dear Christian, Okay. Are you ready for this? After ages, and yes, I mean an absolute eternity of narrowing, whittling, coercing, and wheedling this down, I have finally finished my top ten resolutions for the new year. New Year. It always seems like I should capitalize that, no matter the context, even though I know grammatically, it should be fine alone when saying "the new year". You taught me that, you know. I hated it so much at the time; those nights at the kitchen table hunched over crumpled paper and broken pencils. Even no...

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“Maple” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #63

By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. But the tingle of smoke in my throat and lungs had nothing to do with the autumn orange and yellow spattered across the neighborhood. The simple leafy fires of October nature couldn’t compete with the vivid flames of my memory painted into the scars trailing up my arms and across my body. The twist of my mouth and ugliness of my face I knew everyone was too nice to point out, had been born from true fire. Damaging fire. I stood on my porch with the hood of my jacket far over my face...

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“Apples” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #63

I fell in love with her in October. I mean, I loved her before then. You don’t spend three years with someone without falling for the way the light curves around their cheek, or the sound of their first waking breath in the morning, or how their voice goes just a bit higher when they’re about to surprise you. And every single time you fall in love with them, your life together becomes just a little bit brighter. That’s what you really have to be careful about in love. When you stop falling in love with every little thing about someone, I...

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“Sixty Revolutions” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #61

The door spins lazily with that little mosquito-whine sound only audible when no one is around to draw the ear with their clattering footsteps on linoleum. Slightly louder, a brushing constant, is the schuff schuff  of the bottom of the door, that little brush part that no one can remember the name of but looks like the baleen of a whale. The door baleen collects dirt and dust to hold until the friction of the floor finally pulls them under and smudges into inconsequential smears. You stand just outside the revolving door, close enough ...

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“Eau de Memory” by Emmett Wrighter

Submitted to Contest #61

People smell.No matter where they come from, what they do for a living, or how much effort they put into it, the odor of human society is a mix of perfumes, cologne, deodorant, eau de whatevers, and even the dreaded BO. Hell, there’s even articles about “why does my lover’s sweat smell so good” for those poor souls who don’t realize that it’s all about sex. Sex is sweaty. Sweat reminds you of sex. Especially the person you tend to sweat and sex with the most.Go ahead. Look it up.For my family, scent is everything. From my great-great-(insert...

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Author bio

Writer. Larper. he/him 25 Denmark Student at the South Gate School of Creative Writing I focus on a mix of genres and mediums with a heavy basis in traditional fantasy.