F. G.

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2021

Stories (4)

4 Stories

136 karma pts

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“The Circle Part 2” by F. G.

 Some people believe that thought waves ebb and flow like the tide and that two people, who think alike, can get dragged off together in the rip currents. (Me Included.) Like a Knight storming a castle, I burst into the bi-fold front doors with all of the energy of childhood. Hey Ry, it's time to play! I couldn't figure out why he's always so sad. He lives in a loving house with a kind old elf. What coul...

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“The Circle” by F. G.

Submitted to Contest #103

 I only saw it out of the corner of my eye. When I picked it up, it looked like a photograph of a man and me. It was noticeably aged, slightly tinted yellow, and frayed on the edges. It looked like it had been lying on the sidewalk for years. I turned it over and noticed something written on the back. "Start at the beginning." Ok, this is a logically sound sentiment, but a few details would be helpful. I prefer names and dates. I turned the corner to go into the coffee shop where I usually have breakfast. At the counter was the man i...

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“My Imaginary Childhood” by F. G.

Submitted to Contest #102

I didn't know I was supposed to be afraid. I was being invited to play with the boys at the treehouse. I was "IN," and I wasn't about to turn that down. I asked if there was a ladder and one of them pointed to some boards nailed into the tree ascending up the trunk. They gestured that I was first, so up I went. One of the boards pulled out completely when I grabbed it, but I still kept going. When we reached the platform wedged between the tree trunks at the top, I noticed this rope stretched tight between the tree trunk and a ...

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“If Only” by F. G.

Submitted to Contest #99

I knew I had to make it stop. I closed my eyes, breathed in slowly, held it for a short time, and then released it just as slow. Out of instinct alone, I reached for the still cold ground. My hand thrust through the soil and I felt the roots. I started combing them with my fingers. The cicadas yawned from too much sleep and began to sing their song.I opened my eyes and watched them climb up the old oak tree. The one that grew the tallest at the center of the land. ( I don't remember a time when it wasn't there...

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Author bio

You don't have to be able to walk to make it. Christina uses her imagination, and the power of words, to get from one place in the world to another. She’s not a professional writer, but she makes up for it with creativity and imagination.