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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2022
Submitted to Contest #326
Today, when my granddaughter returns from school, she is silent, the usual laughter absent. I think I can guess the reason. “Tell me a story – about when you were my age,” she says, her voice quiet. So I tell her a story– a small window into the 1980’s, when beauty and cruelty often shared the same face.*** I hope Tess Hartless doesn’t return from whatever has kept her away.Forever wouldn’t be too long. A high-pitched thrum in my head.A pulse fuelled by dread.My choices are limited.Essentially – fight or flight. Flight sounds good. But where...
Submitted to Contest #325
Coming off the sea, the breeze is restless, but not unpleasant. Savouring its feel, I taste the salt and fear that it carries. Somewhere beneath the tide, I almost hear children laughing – or maybe it’s only the wind rehearsing old sounds. If I could, I’d roll back time like a beach mat and start over. Here, all I can do is make the most of the golden hour, and October’s latent warmth before winter claws its way back in. Apart from the odd straggler, the beach is deserted in the deepening light. I’m rarely drawn this way and hope my wait won...
Submitted to Contest #324
The hungrier I get, the further I go.For the last few months, I’ve flown north for food. Sand eels and herrings mainly – although I’m partial to the odd crustacean. Across miles of ocean and boundless sky, something deep inside keeps ticking away, guiding me along routes my kind have always known. A strange thing attached to me – fitted by humans, I don’t understand. Neither it, nor them. Either way, there’s not much I can do about it.Arr-arr-arr.I bob on the waves, my black and white feathers slick, my orange beak gleaming. If the sea gets ...
Submitted to Contest #323
Mummy TW: Some gore mentioned. Darius lifted the flap of the ‘ibu’ tent, his step heavier than usual. On the embalming table lay a woman’s body – and for a moment he was no longer the jackal-headed Anubis, protector of the dead and conductor of souls as chief embalmer – he was simply a man. Breath catching, he half expected the family friend who had helped raise him to rise and tease him about his big feet, as she had when he was a boy. Darius had never minded the teasing. Having lost his own mother at a young age and with a father who was e...
Submitted to Contest #322
“You know what, Karen?”Irene’s voice was brittle, stripped of its usual warmth. Karen looked up from the till.“What?”“I’m too old for all this crap. I don’t need it. I’m sorry, Karen, but I’m quitting.” The words landed like stones. Karen’s heart sunk, gripped by a weight that seemed to drag her down. For a wild moment, she wanted to unclip the keys from her belt, throw them clattering on the wooden floor, and say, “You know what? I quit too.” Floundering, all she could come up with was, “Oh. Right...” Irene’s face had a set look. “The trou...
Submitted to Contest #320
We are not all the same. In my youth, I was one among many: all different sizes, shapes and textures loving and breathing, each wonderful in its own way. As we sprang up, some were lost, but many grew sturdy and strong.Even though I’ve never seen the ocean, travellers passing through described it. I imagined us to be a living ocean of green as far as the eye could see. The sun filtered through layers of leaves, warming me and giving me energy to grow. I felt my roots reaching into rich, dark soil, drinking deep, while slender threads of fung...
Submitted to Contest #318
Other than a faint glow coming from the back, the town’s only charity shop was in darkness, its front door locked. Though it had opened in 1985, the building had been used as a pharmacy, a bank, and even a tavern. Close to the river in Marpleton, an English market town with priory ruins nearby, it carried its past heavily. Across the road, stone monks still watched over the diminished market square.Now, regulars peered through the shop window searching for signs of movement. The main lights stayed off, but a handful of helpers were huddled i...
Submitted to Contest #317
“You look worn out,” Scott said, stricken by the water dripping from his wife’s face. He would never have called it sweat – not for Ellie. “What do you expect?” she asked. “We’re in the middle of a heatwave.” The air was thick and oppressive, the fan failing to stir it. Even the curtains hung limp, too weary to move. Scott was heading to the fridge for ice cubes when she said the name aloud, as if testing where it might land. “Johnny.” Hearing it, Scott reeled. But with time running out, Ellie was reshaping boundaries. “What are you going to...
Submitted to Contest #316
The Veil Lifted Floating along the cobbled main street, I hover outside the Black Bull, where once I entertained punters with ghostly tales. My behaviour was the subject of endless discussion, but my friends knew the truth. Others were more than happy to indulge in conjecture or false reports. Biographies of my sisters only made matters worse — they rarely did me justice. More often than not, I was cast as the villain of the piece, a disreputable figure incapable of fulfilling his artistic dreams and bringing shame to his family. Yet it didn...
TW: contains themes of abuse. It’s that time of night when you have no business being awake, with thoughts for companions no one would want. Switching on the lamp, you fiddle with odds and ends in the bedside drawer. Earplugs. Vaseline. The odd paperback you’re no longer able to read. You scrabble for a pill only to find all the packets are empty. Story of your life. Can it really be thirty years since his life ended? If you can call it a life. Only thirty years — forever wouldn’t be enough. Your bony hands grip the bannister. Another fall w...
Submitted to Contest #315
TW: Some swearing and mentions of self-harm. Fingers catching on a loose thread, I smoothed down the sequin top.The voice always started when I was ready to go out. Her voice.“Aren’t you a bit old to go clubbing?”I picked up my eyeliner, hand trembling slightly.“Why do you say that?”My eyes met my own reflection, star dust sprinkling the sides of my face.“Well, look at you!”“What do you mean?”“Hardly love’s young dream!”“Maybe not, but—”“But what?”“But…”“But, but, but…”“Don’t be mean.”“Isn’t it time you faced facts? You’re too old to dress l...
Submitted to Contest #312
Maisie watched the news announcement with keen interest. Her lifelong fascination with technology – perhaps something she’d passed onto her son – still burned bright. Her grey hair – thinner than it once was – remained neatly styled. The immaculate presenter, probably in her mid-thirties, spoke in the crisp, yet neutral tones of a news presenter. If you didn’t know better, you might have mistaken her for one of the very AI models she was reporting on. Designed to integrate seamlessly into everyday life, the Soltek models promised to eliminat...
Submitted to Contest #309
Armed with a bitter tasting coffee that was strong enough to stave off a hangover, Mike barely heard the waves lashing the lighthouse walls. Once a popular artist, he had spent the past ten years in his solitary home painting stark seascapes. They were mostly black and white, with hints of grey breaking out as an afterthought. These days, applying brush strokes seemed like chasing empty dreams on canvases. Unlike his earlier crowd-pleasing scenes of bathers enjoying the sea, Mike was never satisfied upon completing the dark sea pictures. Ins...
Submitted to Contest #308
At dawn, on the longest day of the year, a throng converges on the temple grounds. All eyes are drawn to the rising sun. A throbbing ball of radiance, it rests a while, bobbing on the horizon. Gradually, it recedes behind a line of distant palms, trailing ribbons of red in its wake.^^^Canet, my faithful young servant, was intended for the priesthood but when I saw him struggle with the hieroglyphs, I took him on in the lesser role. His loyalty is a useful resource in a temple that has turned into a pit of vipers.Entering my chamber, the dark...
Submitted to Contest #307
On campus in May, the roses in the plastic tubs are blooming. It’s still too early for sunflowers, though she remembers them being around during the early weeks of that carefree first year when the best part was making new friends. Rosie had felt free then, capable of doing anything, overcoming every obstacle. If fate and sheer hard work had given her the chance to escape the demons of her past, she didn’t want to get it wrong. Except she had, and it was all because of him! Telling herself she’s only visiting his office before the first exam...
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