H L McQuaid

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2020

Stories (27)

27 Stories

2822 karma pts

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“Spin cycle ” by H L McQuaid

[CW: emotional abuse, implied physical abuse]. .The lingering slap echoes in my ears, stings my cheek. The bathroom mirror reflects a pink flush, a tender swelling, but nothing noticeable, nothing I can see.She’s in the kitchen, assaulting cupboards, derailing drawers, slamming pots on the stove.“MARY PAT KUDE!” she screams.That’s me. The last name rhymes with moody.Though we have the same last name, she’s not my mother. My birth mother that is. She ...

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“Salt Lake” by H L McQuaid

Two figures glimmer in the waves of heat rising from the dry lakebed. Stretched before them, the Bonneville Salt Flats, a vast expanse of white, blinding under the merciless Utah sun. No shelter or shade for miles. The only sound is the rhythmic crunching of their shoes on the crumbling surface, and the distant booms of rockets and guns and war.The girl trudges glassy-eyed across the barren landscape. Her plump brown cheeks stained with dried tears. She wears jeans, a blue t-shirt, sneakers.The man wipe...

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“Fade to Black” by H L McQuaid

A young girl with strawberry blonde hair clutches a stuffed bunny rabbit as she follows the trail of matted grass and snapped twigs. Ahead of her a man drags something heavy, wrapped in a blanket, deeper into the woods.He sings, “I'd like to lay my weary bones tonight, on a bed of California stars…”He stops, wipes sweat from his brow. She ducks behind a tree, holds her breath, then peeks her head out to watch. He digs, his shovel tossing dirt, until it clangs on metal. He rolls the stuffed blanket into ...

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“Waking Life” by H L McQuaid

The tangled lovers lie like kindling on a grave. The unmade hotel bed, the untidy window-shades, untidily folded clothes. Limbs entwined in silence in the darkened room, a living mausoleum decorated with dying daisies.Astrid wiggles a foot free from under the twisted sheet. She languidly wraps a strand of hair around a finger, laughs, “You think you were my first love?”Jack frowns, “You were the love of my life. Till I met you.”Astrid sits up, grabs a vape from the nightstand, take a l...

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“The Debate” by H L McQuaid

You savour these moments in the spotlight, swirling the attention like a fine wine in your mouth. All lenses narrowed on your charming smile, your blue eyes made bluer as your pupils contract to pinpoints, the only part of your body that shies away from bright lights. The reporters jostle for position, shoulders kicking toward the front of the stage. Ravenous, famished, churning the air as they sniff for political chum. I envy your ease in these situations, you slice through the tricky queries and lob back talking points, you smash the so...

43 comments 43 SHORTLIST ⭐️

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“some body lies” by H L McQuaid

The day Sam found the body was surprisingly sunny and pleasant. Since it was the first morning the mercury moved reliably above the freezing mark, Sam had abandoned his winter parka in the cabin he’d been inhabiting for a week, opting instead for insulated canvas trousers, ankle-high hiking boots, and a waterproof jacket. He'd set off on a North-by-Northwest course, a direction he’d not yet attempted and was pleased discover a forgotten logging trail. He’d been rambling down the path, keeping an eye out for owl...

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“The geometry of truth” by H L McQuaid

[Content warning: beaucoup d'insinuations]**apéritifs**The plump curve of Cathy's lower lip leaves a pink crescent on the rim of the champagne glass as she takes tiny sips. The angles of her diamond engagement ring catch the light cast from the tasteful candelabras.Beads of sweat roll down Joe’s forehead, mimicking the drops of condensation drawn by gravity toward the bottom of his pint of pale ale.He lays his hand on top of Cathy’s, the hard edges of the...

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“Roadside Attractions” by H L McQuaid

In the rearview mirror the one called Astrid, a freckled strawberry slip of a woman, lifts the lid off a bronze funeral urn and squeezes a small hand through its narrow neck. She roots around inside for a moment, before retracting her hand and popping something into her mouth. I’m about to ask what she’s eating when Bobby, the young black man in the passenger seat, says, “Deer.”About thirty feet ahead, a doe stands on the road, so close I can see its velvet ears twitching. It’s too late to stop. I got less than a second ...

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“broken branches of the family tree” by H L McQuaid

Luca blows out a long breath, relaxes his shoulders and leans against the bench's backrest as the ferry pulls away from the Everett City pier. Astrid sits next to him, her curly red hair whipping across a freckled face, her nose buried in a tattered copy of The Peanut Butter Falcon. In front of them, Bobby, his brown hands gripping the side of the boat as the waves rock the deck. He insisted on wearing a life jacket, even after Luca told him that only kids had to put them on. The straps Luca had to loosen to fit over Bobby's belly flap in...

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“The Snow Globe” by H L McQuaid

The shards of glass glint, ragged daggers on the bedroom floor, as the voices taunting dirty Chalkers echo on the warm breeze flowing through the shattered window. Yasmine tries to calm her racing heart as she slides out of bed and sidles along the wall until she reaches the blue, threadbare curtains fluttering in the wind. Poking a pale finger between the wall and curtain, she lifts the fabric just enough to scan the street. No sound, no movement.“What was that noise, Mama?”She turns to see Ey...

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“Situation 19” by H L McQuaid

[Content warning. A naughty clown and some swearing]EXT. AERIAL SHOT: CEMETERY – NIGHTDense fog rolls through a decrepit cemetery, the tombstonesjutting from the earth like rotten teeth. An owl hoots in thedistance, but otherwise an otherworldly silence envelops the graveyard.EXT. CEMETERY – NIGHTA large black raven perches on a grey tombstone, the full moonrising behind him. Below his grimy claws, the inscription:Johann Herz1966 - 2...

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“Twenty-two days” by H L McQuaid

“Don’t you dare go," Mariam said, as Aicha tucked the money into a hidden belt around her waist.“If I stay, nothing changes for any of us," Aicha replied."You are as stubborn as a donkey."Aicha smiles, thinking about that last conversation with her sister, as she stands on a windy beach looking at the rickety boat that's meant to carry her 800 kilometers across the open ocean. Even a donkey would have more sense than to ride in that. But she's already travelled for weeks from the Ivory...

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“Staked” by H L McQuaid

They say dead men tell no tales. But Edwin Rotherhithe sits opposite me on a green leather club chair in his personal library, telling me the excruciating details of his life before he was killed. I don’t know how he looked in life. In death, the folds of flesh on his corpulent face conspire to push his brown eyes further into their sockets, like gophers retreating to their dens. The silver buttons of his brown houndstooth vest look ready to pop as they strain to maintain the burgeoning belly beneath.“...that was back in...

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“Gameplay” by H L McQuaid

The chocolate ice cream liquifies quickly in the heat, squidging between my toes and staining one of my new camel-coloured sandals. I figure I have ten seconds, tops, before the pig-tailed girl switches from staring at the empty cone to sniffling, crying and ragged screaming, as only children can do, taking a deep breath before each wail.“Alice!”I turn to see who’s calling my name. It’s the pigtailed girl’s mother. “It’s okay, honey, we’ll get you another one,” she says as she takes my namesa...

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“Lucky Dog” by H L McQuaid

“You have any idea how this section is organised?” I ask, looking at the shelves lined with slim, emerald-coloured boxes that remind me of DVD cases. I pick one at random and read the label, ‘SER-☘️-🐕’“Hannah, I just work in the cafe here, I'm not a librarian," Lyra says, running pale fingers through her spiky purple hair.“Ladies, this is the Quiet Zone,” says a woman in a fitted grey suit with matching grey hair, pointing a dove-grey fingernail to the sign above our heads.I look up at...

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Author bio

The "H" stands for Heather. The "L"? I'll never tell. I'm focussing on screenwriting at the mo, so not sure I'll have time/energy to write stories. I'll try to read some and provide feedback, but it may much briefer than my usual (which some of you may prefer. :0). I love to experiment with short stories, so a lot of my stuff is straight-up strange. I also welcome constructive feedback, it's one of the best ways to learn and improve. Some of my favourite writers on here (in no particular order) and if I remember, I'll rotate the list regularly as there are many more!: Claire Lewis David Gottfried Nina Chyll Kristin Neubauer K Antonio Thom Brodkin Rachel Smith Deidra Lovegren Shea West Rayhan Hidayat And you should check out Beth Connor's writing and captivating podcast, Crossroads Cantina: https://crossroadscantinapodcast.com/ The Lorelei was turned into an immersive audio drama on Crossroads Cantina . Listen here: (https://crossroadscantina.captivate.fm/episode/the-lorelei) Listen to 'The Debate' on Katie Kanning's podcast 'Unpublished, not Unknown' https://bio.link/katiek If you're still reading, a bit of background. I went to school for a long time and collected a number of degrees (Cognitive Psychology, Professional Writing, German), some more useful than others. I did some creative writing when I was a teen, but that was interrupted by decades of non-fiction, so I'm trying again. Copyright © 2022 Heather McQuaid - All Rights Reserved. Using content without written permission is prohibited.

Shortlisted 3 stories ⭐️

Contest #104

The Debate – read story

Contest #90

Rooted – read story

Contest #83

The Lorelei – read story