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Harriett Ford

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

Stories (5)

Comments

Library

63 Followers

1 Following

5 Stories

483 karma pts

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The Liberator

Submitted to Contest #144

The Liberator “What are the photos for?” Dazed and confused, Professor Sandra Johnson stared at the camera in Timmy's hand. His expression was tender. "You're waking up. Don't be afraid, Miss Johnson. I used a mild dose in the injection. It’s wearing off already." He knotted her limp frame to a kitchen chair and stood back. "Timmy? What's going on?" Her speech was slurry, but her mind began to clear. "I hate to keep you waiting, but I can't release you until...

9 likes

She Could Simply Walk Away

Submitted to Contest #143

She Could Simply Walk Away Jemma heard the sound again, a low moan coming from across the swamp. She had previously dismissed it as the groan of a live oak branch rubbing against another in the breeze, a common enough sound in the wetlands. This time she inclined her head toward the fan of palmetto leaves and listened intently. Moonlight penetrated through ghostly fingers of Spanish moss draped above her head, limning the trees in black against the starlit sky. She could smell the scent of decaying vegetation and feel the damp, cloyin...

13 likes

The Cabin

Submitted to Contest #132

The CabinThe afternoon drifted into the ravine like a cat on little fog feet. Yeah, I know, the Sandburg metaphor is reversed. However, the storm soon followed on the sharp claws of a ravening wolf.Lightning glinted like steely teeth visible in the wind-whipped mouths of darkening clouds. My English lit teacher says I’m good at figurative language.It was time to dive for shelter, and I had no idea where to find even an overhang in the rocky walls beside me. I was in for a soaking or worse if the swollen stream I had followed became a raging ...

14 likes

No Blood From a Turnip

Submitted to Contest #39

Writers are constantly warned to avoid clichés. This short story is a spoof, deliberately packed with twisted clichés used in unique and literal ways to move the plot forward, a parody on the trite, but always popular themes of vampires and time travel. No Blood From a Turnip Count Galilea wrapped his cloak about his shoulders, reveling in the storm-tossed night. With the stealth of a panther, he moved to a waiting limousine, sleek and long as a black serpent glistening in the rain. Lightning flashed with wild abandon, th...

24 likes

Blood on the Pillow?

Submitted to Contest #15

Blood on the Pillow? “So, what’s this werewolf thing anyway? You really believe you are one?” Eddie Clark leaned back in the deer blind and arched a very skeptical brow. “I’ve known it for a long time now,” Thornton Howell spoke in a monotone voice. The two were known for playing tricks on one another. Their one-upmanship was usually the topic of laughter around the school. While watching for a deer, the pair had been discussing a rash of missing pets and animals in their area of the Ozarks. Small dogs. Cats. Even a noticeable decrease in th...

6 likes