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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2022
Submitted to Contest #135
The door to the airplane was like a threshold. Stepping through meant leaving behind the cozy house where we had become a family of four, the city in which I had grown up, and my parents, whose tearful farewell was already settling into my bones, making them ache with the throb of goodbye. With a chubby toddler on my hip and her towheaded older sister setting out resolutely before us, we made our way across the invisible line between the known and the unknowable. It was impossible to understand then, despite our imaginings, the words o...
Submitted to Contest #133
Denise is short— petite, she calls herself. She has a slight build with soft, sagging skin the color of puddy and the slow, measured movements that seem feline in their calculated precision. Paul often thinks of her as cat-like, slinking around the house, eyeing him with belittling glares, claws sharp and at the ready. Paul used to wonder how someone so small could make life so miserable. Now he knows that size has nothing to do with it. He knows that vicious words can be hurled from small mouths, that they will find and pier...
Submitted to Contest #129
There is the whoosh of water spraying from the shower, the insistent chime of a phone, and the dull pounding of her head. The bed that just a few days ago had been a pristine, white cloud is now a crumpled pile of distorted comforter, twisted bed sheets, and strewn pillows. Sarah risks the opening of an eye but when the brightness of the room sears her throbbing brain, she squeezes it shut again. Their last night of vacation and they had made the most of it. Bottles of red wine, bourbon, and, oh Jesus, had they done shots? The acrid ta...
Submitted to Contest #128
Meghan watched the ripple of creamy silk flutter down the pillowy fabric like wind blowing softly over a milky pond. From her mother’s shoulder to the place where her apron cinched tightly around her narrow waste, the silk danced delicately as her arm moved the tea bag up and down. Steam unfurled in spindly whisps like a tiny chimney and Meghan imagined the look on her mother’s face to be wistful, but she knew it was more likely to be a scowl. She absentmindedly stroked her niece’s perfectly round head while she grabbed another rock wit...
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