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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2021
They call me the Madam of the place, but personally, I can't stand that title. Madam? I mean what is that?When you hear that title, how would you picture the person in question - physically I mean? I guess you might envision someone wide set, full in the chest, miserable in the mouth, excessive in the jowls and untrusting in the eyes? Perhaps in the second half of their years, with wisps of greying hair highlighted through a taut elaborate low bun?Let’s talk skin - would you ...
Visiting hours were almost over, but Mitch knew the receptionist had a weakness for freshly baked oatmeal cookies from Mama’s across the street. Ten minutes, Isabella mouthed as she hid the bright pink box beneath her station and jerked her head towards the lifts. Mitch jostled with the other box in his arms, bigger and pinker, held together with white ribbon and took the steps two at a time....
‘You promised.’ Juliet thought her voice wouldn't betray her disappointment, but it did. It came out like a whimper, small and pathetic. She cringed and swiped at her wind swept hair, currently invading her vision, so that she could keep her eyes locked on her betrayer. Romeo looked back at her, across the table, a small smile flickering on the corner of his mouth. He opened his arms out a...
HIM - PRESENT Even with the barrel of the gun pressed to my left temple, I still crack a smile. She looks at me, through her thick blonde lashes and a frown creases on her brow. The barrel twists against my head, pinching my flesh. “What’s funny?” she snarls. I shrug. “When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile,” I say, my eyes landing on the velvet red box on th...
We sit at the table every night, in the exact same places. Ma on my right at the head, on the chair with the arm rests, Chaarun on Ma’s right, little Cody next to him, and Coffey next to me. When I’m lying in bed at night, Chaarun asleep beside me, I like to replay dinnertime over and over in my mind. I screw my eyes shut tight and force myself to remember. I’ve done this every night since my 5th birthday....
Jackson Marriott knew he’d messed up from the moment he saw the police car erratically mount the curb outside No. 7, narrowly missing this morning’s pile of bin bags that sat lazily in the front drive. His hand trembled as he used his middle finger to nervously push the bridge of his coke bottle glasses further up his nose. He blinked and his bottom eyelid twitched. With his jowly face pressed up against the glass of his...
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