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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2022
Submitted to Contest #286
The envelope joined the pile gathering dust on Mike’s table. He would read its contents, but only after his run. He dreaded a confirmation that would seal his fate almost as surely as if he’d thrown himself off the rocks and plunged into the oblivion of a churning sea. But no. In spite of everything, he wanted to live.Besides which, Jeff would have expected him to fight rather than cling onto a past long since gone.There was no point running away from problems.But running away was exactly what he’d been doing – for months, even years now. As...
Submitted to Contest #284
Nothing is more challenging than the start of a new year when people have been clearing out their unwanted items after Christmas and the donations are piling into the charity shop filling up every inch of spare space. It’s not unknown for this state of affairs to continue even after we’ve closed when you get donors literally banging on the window demanding to bring in boxes of goods they can barely lift themselves. You’re expected to receive all this with a smile of undying gratitude, even though you’re desperate to cash up so you can get ho...
Submitted to Contest #281
Christmas is round the corner and I’ve never felt less Christmassy.Here I am surrounded by all manner of festive gifts and must-have seasonal cuties. The boxes of crackers may look appealing but seeing the person I want to pull them with is no longer around, maybe not so much.However, even I have to admit the very reasonably priced snow globes with their miniature snowmen in funny hats and colourful scarves, have a certain charm. One of the store’s best sellers, only one remains waiting to be shaken and given a good home.These new goods are ...
Submitted to Contest #276
The Social WorkerNames and places have been changed. Some who played a part in this are not included, but in essence this is a true story.Whatever I was expecting, Mrs Lauren wasn’t it. An older woman, well spoken, with not a hair out of place, wearing heels and a power suit, she didn’t fit my image of a typical social worker, whatever that was. The first time I saw her; I didn’t think she’d be much help.***A voice called from the half-open door where my favourite teacher Mrs Swanson was conferring with the school secretary.“A quick word, He...
Submitted to Contest #275
The SmokeLondon, 1941As usual, Bill woke at dawn and was driven out to his aircraft. The order to scramble had been given and he felt the familiar tug of fear and excitement. He checked his jacket pocket for the doll his sister had knitted as a lucky charm. She told him she’d made two dolls but his was the best. He felt the rough cloth and bumpy stitches, complete with tiny bag and hat, beneath his fingers, and smiled. The thought of his little sister’s face gazing up at him the last time they met, brought a lump to his throat. It gave him t...
Submitted to Contest #274
Amber EyesFor thousands of years cats have been teaching humans a thing or two, including how to live in the moment and when to let go.It was just after dusk when the cat tiptoed its way across the garden. Fur ruffled by a breeze blown in from the desert, it regarded the woman through languorous amber-gold eyes. Carrying a lantern, she trod the path cautiously, anxious to avoid the sting of a passing scorpion. The animal already knew she was special, but this marked her out as wise. The woman whose name was Zara made h...
Submitted to Contest #272
Turn over your shoes to stop the pixies and ogres walking in them. Shut the drapes so the moonlight doesn’t drive you mad.Keep your ladies of the bedchamber close for tis now you need them most.Gold and silver thread shimmer in my candlelit chamber. The figures of three noblewomen standing beneath a garden tree in the tapestry opposite feel as much part of me as the veins in my still slender hands. One holds a bunch of flowers, one carries a basket of eggs, and the third stretches out her hand to a pelican. Symbol of motherhood, it is said t...
Submitted to Contest #269
To be taken in the context of the 1980’s when social attitudes were different, but human nature not so much.1981 Put me next to my sister Charmaine and I fade into the background. It’s a twist on ugly duckling/ beautiful swan syndrome. The fact I’m two years older only makes matters worse. I’m eighteen and Charmaine is sixteen. She’s everything I’m not. She has brilliant green eyes to my hazel ones, golden hair to my light brown, and a cheerleader figure. Oozing sexuality and confiden...
Submitted to Contest #268
TW: mentions of mental and physical abuse.Bill sat bolt upright in the hotel bed, heart pounding to a familiar refrain. The dream had reasserted itself with a vengeance.From the moment he’d seen the updated list of people attending the conference, one name had stood out: Dake Scratchard was the name of the boy who’d haunted Bill Brown’s life more years than he cared to remember. Dreams fuelled by past memories disturbed his nights when equal amounts of dread and fear surged through his veins, rendering him helpless.As always, the nightmare w...
Submitted to Contest #267
Other than a faint glow coming from one of the back rooms, the town’s charity shop was in darkness, its front door firmly closed. Although it had opened in 1985, the building had been used commercially since the 1800’s when it had variously been a pharmacy, a bank, and a tavern.The shop was close to the river in Marpleton, a pleasant English market town which had once been home to a nearby priory. In ancient times, monks had wandered back and forth to sell their wares at a market which still existed in diminished form across the road. Regula...
Shortlisted for Contest #265 ⭐️
Bubbles.Sometimes try. To. Catch bubbles … tiny ones, they float above me. A soft pink ceiling seals me in. A kind of membrane. But where does it go? Where do I go?Very tired. I open my mouth. Yawn it all out. Bend my neck. It needs rest. Eyes heavy under lids. Closing them… so soothing. With them tight shut dark, I go to vanish. Back again on dream journey. Traveling, to where? Memories unfurl. I’m in the unknown. What? Is it?Fragments of life. Memories forming. Past is present. Present is past. I don’t know. Uncoiling. 🫧 🫧Sudden...
Submitted to Contest #264
TW: some swearingThe plates are beginning to pile up like Portuguese men o’ war on a deserted shoreline. Cursing loudly, Barry promises himself a dish washer as soon as he can get round to buying it. A half-eaten fish and chip supper lies stranded next to the sink, its wrapping poking out of the bin like an accusation. While he’s about it, he might as well get a new bin too. Preferably one where the lid doesn’t have to be wrenched open.Friday evening is rock night, the only time Barry feels truly alive. He’s getting ready to join his b...
Submitted to Contest #261
If only good things lasted. Maybe not forever, but for as long as we need them.This section of the riverbank has been my favourite haunt for the past year. There’s a chill in the air and my feet scrunch along a well-worn path. Ancient half-bare trees sway a little, their curling leaves settling after a languid descent. Soon they will be little more than trunks with skeletal branches; passers-by will observe them while clumping along carpets of rusty red and gold. Then they will turn to mulch, and traipsing visitors will long for the promise ...
Shortlisted for Contest #254 ⭐️
OAKWOOD FOREST, 1350.Like any right-minded boy of nine and a half, hadn’t Tom always dismissed the rumours as unbelievable? Too good to be true.“Stuff and nonsense,” his mother said firmly. “You are to ignore them.”“But what if they are true?” He’d asked her this more than once.“They are not true.” She shook her fist to emphasise the point. “You must stop your foolish chatter, Tom. There have been no sightings and even if there were, the king has forbidden such talk. Haven’t we enough troubles, without adding to them?”“But…”“No ifs and no bu...
Submitted to Contest #252
TW: contains descriptions of gore appropriate to the sixteenth century and there are references to miscarriages. A king does as he pleases and anyone who disagrees is a fool.Wolsey, my lord chancellor, who the pope made cardinal, erred in being too slow to deal with “the king’s great matter” which was how the need to legitimately free myself from my first marriage became known. Thomas More who I promoted to the same position, forfeited his life when he put conscience before obedience to the crown. When Thomas refused to take the oath of succ...
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