H Bolton

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2021

Stories (9)

9 Stories

309 karma pts

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“The Itch” by H Bolton

She couldn’t focus on what her boss was saying because of how much the bug bites on her leg itched. Her dress pants had gently kissed each bite as she walked to his office, waking up those pesky red dots from their hibernation. They screamed to be itched now. Beat on her temple, ‘Scratch me! Scratch me!’ Leaning over, she rubbed one on her knee to calm the chant. Ugh, she knew she should’ve worn bug spray while camping. She gave herself a pass because it was winter and she hadn’t seen a mosquito in months, but a sma...

15 comments 15 SHORTLIST ⭐️

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“The Brothers Royal” by H Bolton

King Patrick the Great lay on the grass, the blood stain on his green tunic growing. His brother, Prince Alexander of no formal title, was watching the stain when he felt the king’s eyes. “Yes, it’s your baby brother - back from the grave.” When they last saw each other, the king’s hair was a bright yellow, but it was now greyed. Even the prince’s black hair turned salt and pepper. “I’ve always wondered what you thought killed me - outlaws or your assassins?” The king closed h...

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“The Donkey & the Dating App ” by H Bolton

There once was a groundhog named Gloria. She had an internet date over lunch at The Watering Hole, the hippest drinks establishment in town. Most animals had to wait in line to get a sip at the Hole. Her date was with a horse named Jack and they had met on Mating Call, an app where animals swipe up or down based on potential suitor’s photos. Cautiously, she opened the door of the bar and poked her black ...

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“Of God and Fools” by H Bolton

April 1, 2018 was an exciting day for me. I was on-call for work, because of capitalism, which stopped me from going to my parents’ house for Easter. My father loved April Fools Day and I could picture him offering the snapping gum to people in church. He’d reach out, offer a piece, and WHAM, the spring would get their hand. The spring was only newtons away from lethal mouse trap force. Or maybe he’d pul...

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“Primavera” by H Bolton

Venus’ sandaled foot stepped out of the painting, finding depth and the fullness of three dimensions. Her red cape dragged the floor as she glided through the dark gallery. Each step tossed her hips wide like a dance. She didn’t look back - she never did. This was her one day in life and not art. “It’s happening!” whispered Thalia to my sister Euphrosyne. “Spring is here!” See, that was Venus’ role: she woke the earth to springtime. Knocked the chill out of the air and told the sun to hang aro...

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“The Best Pickpocket of Palma de Mallorca” by H Bolton

Beca stood outside her hide-out, her hands on her hips, breathing in the smells of bread baking, salt from the ocean, and the sewer line, broken, two avenues over. Today was going to be a fantastic day. She turned to close up her home, a hollow space in the city wall, just tall enough to sit in and long enough for her to lay down. She better stop growing or else she’d have to learn to sleep on her side. Shaking her hea...

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“The Old Normal” by H Bolton

The boardroom was the country club’s underused dining hall, with the tables pushed into one long, larger shape. The little tables coming together to become a single, theoretically better one - that was probably a good metaphor for the eight people sitting around it: the homeowners’ association. Their job was to better the neighborhood, to think as a joint mind, to solve the problems of dropping property values. Marty lik...

10 comments 10 SHORTLIST ⭐️

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“In an artic vortex of doom ” by H Bolton

“I have to leave this damn hellhole.” The sentiment echoed in the still air of her cathedral-ceiling foyer. It had a chandelier Sally picked out in New York and off to one side was the cream sitting room. The sofas were cream, the walls were cream, the carpet - cream. No one was allowed in there for the fear of dirt. The master bedroom with a king sized bed, some fancy thick wood frame, was off to the ri...

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“Beauty Sleep” by H Bolton

I pretended the alarm clock woke me and loudly groaned, covering my head with the unwarmed blanket. Did I dream of sheep? No, if I could dream, it would have been of Damian Jackson. In gym, I watched him play basketball, taking the ball up and down the court in self-assured dribbles. He would always attempt to dunk - and was successful one out of seven times. But with hands like that, solid hands that could adjust a basketball just so… I had some ideas for him. Maybe on the third date I’d take him home, show him the transformer, and ask h...

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Author bio

Hello! Feel free to reach out to me at hboltonwrites@gmail.com ⭐ Shortlist Contest 84: The Old Normal ⭐ Shortlist Contest 85: The Best Pickpocket of Palma de Mallorca ⭐ Shortlist Contest 89: The Itch Published to Write City Magazine Dec21

Shortlisted 2 stories ⭐️

Contest #89

The Itch – read story

Contest #84

The Old Normal – read story