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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2021
Submitted to Contest #263
The Geminae hunted only by starlight, because the hard silver of their skin reflected the sky’s faint glow and turned them into ghosts. From a distance, they were barely wisps that floated gently above the horizon. But there was nothing gentle about the Geminae. By the time their padding footsteps were audible, it was too late. Everything was like that on Kyto: soft, ethereal, deadly. There was nowhere to hide. The planet’s surface was a flat, unbroken sheet of rock, and the sky stretched into infinity in every direction. It was so fast...
Submitted to Contest #102
Morgan Wright was a ghost. That’s what everyone in Sequoia Heights said, anyway. I had no reason to doubt them; my neighbors, all of them older than I was, knew best. In all of my fifteen years there, I had never seen Morgan, and so all I knew of her was what everyone said. Mr. Lansing insisted that Morgan was a ghost because she only came out at night. “She only travels in the dark,” he would tell me. “She waits ‘till the sun goes down and then she floats around all ghosty-like. Just hovers,...
Submitted to Contest #80
Morning. The sun peeks its head over the horizon. I tiptoe out of bed, not wanting to wake Mama, and enter the kitchen to pour myself a bowl of Cheerios. Dry, of course. I hate milk. The beads of cereal ping against the bowl as I tilt the box forward, forward, and—oops. Too far. The bowl fills up too fast, Cheerios skittering across the counter. And it’s at that moment that Lua decides to hop up onto the counter, tail waving straight in the air. “No, Lua!” I whisper. She ignores me, of course, sniffing the bowl and then stuff...
Submitted to Contest #79
October 1940Manchester, EnglandAmerica. I’ve never been. I’ve never even left England, actually. And now...now I’m leaving. Now I’m crossing an ocean. I’m leaving. Mum won’t tell me where I’m going. I think she knows, though. She’s been bustling around the kitchen more than usual lately, even though there’s no food to cook with; everything’s rationed. She won’t quite meet my eyes when I look at her, and her words have been fading day by day. Now, she barely speaks to me at all. &...
Submitted to Contest #78
My first day of real school was in the fourth grade. It happened to be Pet Day. There were cats, dogs, goldfish, an amphibian or reptile here and there. But me?I brought my owl. Her name was Stea. That means “star” in Romanian. My mom always liked to look up the words for things in different languages, and when we first found Stea as a little baby, she wanted to name her after the stars.“Not the stars,” she interrupted me one time, when I told the story to a friend. “No, I named it after my daughter.” She smiled down at me, put her arm ...
Submitted to Contest #77
“There’s so much snow, Daddy,” Eloisa marvels, squishing her nose against the car window. A little cloud of fog puffs outward on the glass. “Yes, honey,” my dad mumbles. His hands are gripping the steering wheel for dear life. Mine are clenched around the armrests of the passenger seat. Both of us are white-knuckled, and despite the chill in our battered SUV with half-working heat, sweat beads on my dad’s forehead. “It’s pretty,” my little sister says. “Yes, honey.” Dad eases us around...
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