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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2025
Time flowed differently in the red dust of Southern Vega. It wasn't a matter of perception, but of fundamental physics. The grains of sand were worn-out microchips, solidified memories drifting in the desert wind, reflecting the fragmented light of a sky that was no longer a sky.Rork knew this. He knew because he had seen it collapse, that uniform blue, transforming into a mosaic of crazed pixels – a cosmic glitch that no one had been able to repair. Now the firmament was just a broken screen, a disintegrated canvas where each fragment showe...
Submitted to Contest #296
When she was born, they called her Spark. Because she sparkled. Literally.Every time she cried, her crib would light up with soft glows, like an oil lamp fighting against the darkness. When she laughed, the air would crackle like on the eve of thunderstorms, fizzing with invisible electricity. It was a phenomenon nobody could explain. Doctors shook their heads, confused. Government scientists collected samples but never returned with answers. Only the nuns at the orphanage seemed serene, with the calm of those who have seen too much to be su...
Submitted to Contest #295
"Please, not here.""I know I haven't always been completely clear-headed. But have I ever said anything this crazy?""Paolo...""Answer me.""No.""So why would I start today?""Because today is Uncle Corrado's funeral, and you're telling me he's not dead.""Because he's not.""Paolo, please. Look at the coffin. Just look at it.""I'm looking at it.""So?""So, you tell me what's inside.""You know perfectly well what's inside.""Did you see it?""No, but...""Ah.""But Mom saw it. And the doctor too.""And did you see Mom see it?""What kind of question is ...
Submitted to Contest #294
"I've said too much.""Too much what?""It doesn't matter.""Yes, it does. If you say that, it matters.""I didn't mean to...""Didn't mean to what? Didn't mean to say it? Didn't mean for me to hear it?""I don't know. I wasn't thinking...""You weren't thinking. That's the problem. You never think." "That's not true.""Oh, really? Then explain. Explain.""There's nothing to explain.""Of course there is. You said something. Something you... you shouldn't have.""It wasn't my intention...""Wasn't your intention to hurt me? Wasn't your intention... what...
Submitted to Contest #293
— I’m thinking of something!— Is it an animal?— Yes.— Mammal?— Yes.— Big or small?— I can only say yes or no. But it’s medium-sized.— Medium compared to what?— Well, you tell me. It’s small compared to an elephant, big compared to a mouse.— Oh, come on, that’s useless. Does it live in Italy?— No.— Is it dangerous?— Depends.— On what?— If you make it angry.— Oh, come on, what kind of answer is that…— A bear!— No.— A jaguar!— No.— A kangaroo?— No!— Guys, stop throwing out random animals, ask some questions…— A kangaroo isn’t dangerous.— If it ...
Submitted to Contest #292
In the dim glow of his cluttered studio, Alex felt a soft murmur emanating from the very walls—a deep, persistent vibration that echoed in his chest like a hidden drumbeat. He stood before the final canvas as if bewitched, confronting a towering monument born of countless sleepless nights and feverish brushstrokes—the culmination of the enigma known as the Green Hierophant. The painting was a labyrinth of swirling viridian tones, a vortex of green that beckoned him closer; the color rippled and pulsed as if imbued with a secret, otherworldly...
Submitted to Contest #291
"Victor awoke, mouth a dustbowl, brain a tape rewound too many times, ancient. A hangover, mythic, the kind that warps existence, livers beg for mercy. Something reeked: rancid whiskey, stale cigarettes drowning in coffee. Maybe him.He rose, a war vet from slumber, dragged himself to the desk. The manuscript, a perfect stack, as if night-delivered. A murder, pre-written. Did he write it? Yes, surely. Or so he willed himself to believe.He grasped it, flipped through pages, not before snorting some coke on it. A bomb. The bomb. Metanarrative a...
Submitted to Contest #290
I reach out to touch her, but my hand passes through empty space. Her eyes gleam in the quantum projector as her voice – soft, metallic – repeats, "I [ERROR: EMOTION_NOT_FOUND] you." There's no flesh, no warmth, just light. She died years ago, yet she's here, a fragment of data preserved for eternity."You have to let me go," she says, anticipating my gaze. The algorithm even knows my pain.I close my eyes, turn off the device. Only silence remains.In the future, [ERROR: EMOTION_NOT_FOUND] doesn't die. But it doesn't truly live either.The cons...
Submitted to Contest #289
PART ONEDr. Amedeo RinaldiDr. Amedeo Rinaldi had dedicated his life to one purpose: rebuilding civilization from scratch. Only the world didn't need another human civilization. He had already seen the disaster men made, and he—an outcast scientist, reduced to living in the basement of a university that ignored him—wanted to prove something different.So he chose mice.It wasn't an experiment in the traditional sense. There were no cages, no rewards for conditioning. There was an entire miniature city built in his basement: tunnels made of page...
Submitted to Contest #288
The sun of Lima was not just a promise kept, it was a declaration of perfection. Every morning it rose, a golden disc in a sky of endless, immaculate blue, pouring down upon the city a light so warm, so mercilessly constant that it seemed to deny the very concept of change. It did not burn, did not blind—flawless, pitiless, like all of Lima.The streets, paved with smooth, gleaming stone, curled between pastel colonial buildings, their facades touched by the invisible brush of some fevered painter, obsessed with harmony. A faint wind, a whisp...
Submitted to Contest #287
Brina's teacup clatters against its saucer, spilling droplets of mint-infused liquid across the worn wooden table. The knocking echoes through her cottage, a staccato rhythm that seems to reverberate in her very bones. With trembling hands, she sets down her cup and rises, her feet carrying her to the door almost of their own accord.The latch creaks as she opens it, revealing a sight she never expected to see on her humble threshold. Princess Elara stands before her, resplendent even in her distress, her silk gown catching the dappled sunlig...
Submitted to Contest #286
I. Present: The EndThe sound of the murky water of the Tiber mingles with the cries of seagulls soaring above the shacks of Fiumara. Giacomo, the last descendant of the family, clutches the fob watch between his grease-stained fingers. It's an heirloom now out of place, with its chipped face and hands frozen at some random hour of a forgotten day. His hand trembles, not from cold but from fear. Something moves in the shadows behind him.A shiver runs down his spine as he hears footsteps slowly approaching. His heart pounds in his chest, as if...
Submitted to Contest #285
I observed me from afar, hidden among the shadows of the boardwalk. The time machine I had stolen – or perhaps invented, I could no longer recall – had brought me there, to that summer of 2000. I didn't know why I had chosen that particular day, but now that I saw him – saw myself – I understood. There was a sweetness in that memory, a whisper of something lost, that I needed to rediscover.He – I – was thirteen years old and didn't yet know that carefree joy could evaporate like the morning mist. He sat in a corner of the skating rink, hands...
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