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Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2022
Submitted to Contest #208
Barbara, a gifted storyteller, called the picturesque town of Highink her home. Nestled among rolling hills and lush forests, the town boasted towering trees that seemed to whisper tales of a bygone era. From the depths of her creative abyss, Barbara conjured characters, breathing life into seemingly lifeless words on her journal's pages.Highink's citizens were captivated by her grand tales, immersing themselves in the enchanting worlds she wove. However, even this master storyteller grappled with a formidable foe familiar to many writers: w...
Submitted to Contest #163
I am a savior.You might recognize me as Dr. Aldaine.My self-healing books touched millions. Their voices flutter, grasping at a rope I provided. Tears from calloused eyes ripple like waves in my soul. It’s easy. Too easy. Psychology is an easy subject. It’s so moving.Saccharine words echo from a hollowed mouth. My mouth. Words don’t need to have any meaning. A person on edge looks for any hopeful glimpse—like a tightrope walker. Their minds, beaten with despair, glisten with rage.Rich authors can write poor characters. Pigs can feast like gi...
Submitted to Contest #159
Dear Almighty God, (day one),It was just another golden day, basking in the fruits of my grand labor. Alas, I recently checked my balance at an ATM machine, and every single cent was drained from my checking account. How can you call yourself omnipresent when you allowed hackers, or some kind of robbers, to get away with my money? Money may just be fiat currency to you, but it is everything to me—my entire fortune—and you don't even seem to care. Oh, is this some lesson to teach to me or something that an amateur preacher would declare to th...
Submitted to Contest #151
As he nestled within a center of spiraling trees, Kreios clutched his whetted stinger to Amara; his eyes unabashedly filled with envy. A soft, snowy midnight glow bathed them. Seeing Amara's black-coated hair reflected in it, Kreios shivered as an undeniable power gleamed in her eyes. Her susurrations echoed in the trees. She bounced up and down.Amara was almost giddy beneath her fearfully shaking antennas.Her sandalled hindleg languished on firmly rooted oak branches. Dense shrubbery was beneath them. Pollinated by the bee colony's hard wor...
Submitted to Contest #150
Dear God, Oh, please don't do it.Please forgive this ungrateful sheep for abandoning the Holy Shepherd in a prosperous and bountiful time. You harvested my filthy wool, shearing it from my oozing-pus-filled skin marred by my temporal infirmities; you transformed me into a resurrected fleece of harlequin nature. I swear to you that I haven't abandoned you out of sheer lack of faith; I even want to be wrapped in your gracious grace again, with your light penetrating the void and casting a divine glow that speckles across in glory.An earth...
I strolled through a daughter's Instagram account, looking for clues as to why she would end her own life. Human beings prospered on Instagram because they cleaved away from their rigid ideals and expanded their social structures.They neatly delineated the highlights of their life but never showcased flaws, insecurities, and secrets. Still, they never accepted that social media is unhealthy.The daughter recently posted a photo of an ice-cream cone. Holding up the cone was a disembodied hand. It didn't matter whether it was peppermint or stra...
Submitted to Contest #149
Lights flickered and glimmered in Hepburn.Adonis was engulfed in a silky white glow as the moonlight illuminated him as he drove through Hepburn's slums.Hepburn was once a prosperous mining and manufacturing town but now lies idle. Yet, some remnants of life still exist; Adonis realized he was not the only one there.A wall of shadows cascaded down from tarnished pewter buildings sprawled throughout it. To refuel, he stopped at a gas station. Outside, a homeless person played the drums.Adonis was perplexed. Why was a homeless person playing i...
Submitted to Contest #147
Like in the movies, Samantha believed that writers magically conjure paragraphs upon paragraphs from a nonexistent void. They dance like demons at night, playing on people's emotional vulnerabilities to make them fall for such a predictable movie script and believing that life is easy without consequence.Films depict writers typing away like adrenalized freaks of nature, zombified by turning in books, so they manage to write 200 pages in one week. Book publishers, astonished by this turn of events, reward the authors for their craft, and eve...
If you want to kill, join the military legally.That's the thing about soldiers—it looks like they are upstanding citizens, but they are trained killers. They are veterans at stalking their prey through the blood-stained trenches. And we reward them.Whether it's a scorched desert bristling with crumbling, yellow-encrusted sand, they can slaughter anywhere. Soldiers wait months to feel the slightest movement, like a slow-growing plant, enveloped in deathly heat, even in a freckled sauna.They can fight in the thick forests with limbs stretching...
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