H.Q. Wakefield

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2021

Stories (4)

4 Stories

81 karma pts

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“New Year's Day” by H.Q. Wakefield

Submitted to Contest #93

“I want your midnights / But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day.” -- “New Years Day” by Taylor Swift “Wild night?” I take in his bed head as Josh stirs awake on the couch. His eyes are groggy and he’s still in last night’s now-wrinkled clothes. He makes a show of standing up and stretching his limbs, then walks over and slides onto one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter I’m wiping down with Lysol. I avoid his eyes, trying not to stare. “Something like that.” He grins and runs a hand through his hair, only ...

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“Weeping Willow” by H.Q. Wakefield

Submitted to Contest #90

I was the weeping willow in your backyard. When your parents first moved in, your father stepped out into the yard and squinted against the sunlight. “That tree will probably come down,” he said. “It takes up half the yard space and it looks sad.” “I like it,” your mother said. She was standing in the opening of the backdoor, on the threshold between the house and the deck. Her hand rested protectively on her round belly. “There won’t be room for a jungle gym,” your father countered. He turned his back to me and faced your mother...

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“Awake Again” by H.Q. Wakefield

Submitted to Contest #86

I wake with a nothingness in my chest. The room is cold. I feel it weighing on my bones, seeping into my joints, pushing me further beneath the soft duvet. A ray of sunlight falls through the crack between the blinds and my bedroom window. I cover my head with the blanket, pushing out the light and welcoming the darkness once again. Eyes closed. Breathe in. Breathe out. Get up, I hear the voice in my head. I shake my head beneath the covers. I won’t. The nothingness fills me--a familiar empt...

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“The Room is Spinning” by H.Q. Wakefield

Submitted to Contest #80

I’m spinning like a ballerina and I like the way my pink tutu poofs out as I make myself dizzy. “Love, you can’t wear that to school,” Mommy says from the kitchen. Her hair is curly like a lion’s mane. She tosses me a pair of jeans. I fall to the floor. The room pirouettes around me. “Daddy said I could.” “Daddy doesn’t make the rules,” she says with a grin. “Put those on, it’s chilly out this morning. We’re going to be late again.” I am in second grade and I know rules are rules, so I pick up the jeans from the ...

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Author bio

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