Helen A Smith

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2022

Stories (30)

30 Stories

2334 karma pts

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“Not Quite The Sea” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #247

Wakened by birdsong, Pat pulls off her duvet, slips on her dressing gown and steps into the garden. A hint of frost nips, but the magnolia’s velvet jackets have split open, transformed into petals of lustrous white. Catkins like tiny helicopters cascade from the birch, forming a mossy overcoat as they land on the lawn.The sky, cyan blue, makes Pat think of the sea. In dreams once shared with her husband Bill, she’d pictured herself living in a cottage by the coast, greeting foamy white breakers crashing along the shore, eating freshly caught...

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“The Mound Of Nu” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #245

Until air, moisture, earth and sky emerged out of the deep, a formless mass existed that looked a bit like a pyramidal mound. It was called Nu. At some point in the mists of time, the sun rose like a goose breaking through the still waters to spread its life-giving light to the earth. In ancient myths, Ra was the Egyptian sun god, the creator of all that followed.Without creation, we do not exist. If we do not exist, what is there?^^^As priests, everything we do, every act and speech we make, every ritual and spell we perform is designe...

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“In the picture ” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #244

Even without a date, you can usually tell the age of a photo from its condition, the print, and style of paper used. This one has a blurred at the edges sun-faded look about it.“That’s strange. I really don’t remember taking that photo. And would you believe it, I’ve gone and left my specs at home?”“You should have got that cataract fixed when you got the chance, Yvonne.”“I dare say.”The out of focus picture in question is of three women: one young, the other two middle-aged. It’s taken from a distance; you’d have to squint to see the three ...

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“You Promised ” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #241

TW: This story contains themes of abuse and mental health.You promised…A voice calls from the half-open door. “A quick word, Barbara?”Judging by the tone of the voices, something’s afoot. “Of course.” My favourite teacher Mrs Swanson confers with Miss Berry, the school secretary. As they exchange confidences, my unease increases. Neither have glanced my way, but something’s definitely rotten in the state of Denmark. I can’t think of anything I’ve done amiss – unless you count my turning up late to school a few times becau...

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“Say It” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #238

I love sitting here with you. It’s such a peaceful spot with the bridge and the ducks and swans floating by. Don’t forget the rats. There’s plenty of them about too. One scurried under this bench when I was sitting here on my own the other day.Trust you to go and spoil things. What do you mean?Bringing a rat into it. I was thinking more of Monet’s bridge with the waterlilies under it. What did you do?Nothing. He just popped his head round. To say hello. Fortunately, by then I’d finished my sandwich. I shuffled my legs and off he sc...

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“Not Valentine’s Day” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #237

Dave’s ears were still ringing from the night before. He’d had less than four hours sleep after playing in his band and felt like death warmed up, but he knew once he’d showered, downed a strong coffee and eaten two slices of thickly buttered toast, he’d be alright.“Not too bad for forty-one!” Dave often conversed like this while studying his reflection in the hallway mirror. He tucked in his uniform. Other than a touch of bagginess under the eyes, his skin had remained smooth, and his thick brown hair was only just starting to recede. Any p...

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“The White Tower” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #235

TW: some sensitive themes.The envelope joined the pile gathering dust on Mike’s oak table. He knew he’d have to read it at some point, just not now. Although it had been months since his last run, he wasn’t going to allow anything to put him off. The letter was a confirmation of demands that would seal his fate almost as surely as if he’d thrown himself off the rocks and plunged headlong into a sea that would be close to freezing. Mike briefly imagined the churning oblivion. But no. In spite of everything, he wanted to ...

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“Time and Tide” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #234

Sometimes the mind frames key moments, discarding everything that happens in between as flotsam. The first time Ed, musician and would be rock star laid eyes on his soon-to-be wife Zoe, had been one such moment.Zoe had been perched next to Johnny at the bar of his favourite pub, her hair tossed back, laughing. She was all twinkling brown eyes and cascading blond curls. Johnny, not missing a beat, had stood next to her and introduced himself.Ed hadn’t wanted to crush his friend’s happiness.<...

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“Guy in Black” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #229

At first glance, it would be easy to mistake it for a gift store, rather than a busy charity shop. It’s the time of year when seasonal items that are new seem to take over from the goods the public have donated second-hand. There are bays of Christmas cards and shelves decked in festive gifts: glass globes containing snowmen in miniature hats and scarves adorn the shelves in various sizes, simply begging to be taken home and shaken; hot water bottles in furry covers with pictures of dogs, cats, reindeer, hedgehogs and other ‘cuties also s...

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“Cooking up a storm” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #228

He had been her best friend since forever.When he’d moved away from their hometown after being headhunted for a job abroad, they had kept in touch through the internet and the odd phone call. However, the last few times Roger had rung Sally-Ann, he’d sounded strained - as if the distance had become more than physical, reminding her of the differences in their characters. But then, she’d always been the ying to his yang. Or was it the other way round? While she was expressive, he was reticent. He was tidy and methodical, ...

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“The Artist” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #225

TW: mention of gore.His motley crew – that was how Mike thought of his students, would be joining him shortly. He turned the radiator up two notches in the attic room studio and covered over his most recent work, the one with the pet alligator swimming in the blue tiled pool. Nor exactly his best piece perhaps, but more than adequate for clients with a reptilian menagerie on the Costa de Sol, who in his opinion had more money than sense.The white sheets Mike had spread over the canvasses he’d been worki...

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“Eternal Student ” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #223

She should have been happy because it was summer and almost the end of term, but all Evie wanted to do was cry. She heard the hollow echo of her footsteps along the university walkways as she headed towards the Examination Hall that would decide her fate. By the time she’d reached the entrance, she had broken into a cold sweat. Eventually, she found her place. It was on the second row near the door. Once seated, she waited in an agony of discomfort for the invigilator to give the instruction to turn...

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“Mentor” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #222

TW: Some sensitive content.Mentors come in many forms and their influence can last forever. I always knew I’d meet him again. So, why am I so nervous?There’s a bite to the air the day before Halloween. Smoky fumes rising from decaying leaves pressed down by the tramp of countless feet, catch the throat with their pungent odours. Fortunately, the sky is clear and cloud free which is just as well because I’ve left my umbrella at home. It’s a blue an...

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“It’s Not Rocket Science ” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #216

TW: possible sensitive themes.The shit usually hits the fan an hour or so after the shop has opened. On bad days, before then. On really bad days, it continues after we’ve closed. People keep donating, often bringing boxes they can barely lift themselves, and expecting you to express undying gratitude when you’re desperate to cash up and go home. We’re not saints here, even if we’re expected to be. Sometimes I can’t get the key in the lock because some bright spark has blocked the entrance with donations. They tumble ont...

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“That sort of thing” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #213

TW. Mentions of abuse.My first real hug? I only experienced it when I was forty-nine! Before that, I’d never hugged anyone, or allowed anyone to hug me; not even my children when they were little. I brought them up, kept them clean and fed them, provided for them, mostly without a father, but always at arm’s length. I was unable to show love.The hug I’m talking about freed me and made me feel appreciated. It was a transforming hug, restoring something of what had been lost. Afterwards...

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Author bio

I’ve always enjoyed writing but in recent years it’s become a real release. Writing gives life meaning in a topsy-turvy world. I hope my stories can inspire others. Even when you feel discouraged, don’t give up. Keep writing and supporting other writers by commenting on their work. I’m learning so much from others reading and critiquing my work. It’s good to reciprocate.

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #177

There’s Always Monopoly – read story