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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020
Submitted to Contest #141
Dear Reader, It’s with a heavy heart that I must report the ‘Queen of Culinary Criticism’ has left the building for the last time. I’m struggling to continue in her absence, despite my formidable reputation. It was she who provided the zest that made my weekly article so entertaining. My final despatch is both a farewell to you and a dedication to my dear wife. Very few food enthusiasts knew of Pamela, but fans of my column may recall mentions of ‘my lovely companion’ or ‘dearest Mrs Guillemot.’ #Reginald Guillemot was once a name ...
Submitted to Contest #139
May Golightly rented her suite of attic rooms to Charlie for over twenty years. He was an ideal lodger, smart and courteous, and always paid his rent in cash. It was a convenient arrangement because his presence afforded her both peace of mind and financial security during her retirement. She’d never interfered in his affairs until one morning a letter appeared on her doormat. May recognised Charlie’s cursive script and opened it to discover a brief note, saying he’d gone away. Charlie asked her to secure his few valuables and box up his clo...
Submitted to Contest #138
It was midafternoon when the local police patrol found me shivering in my swimwear on the shoreline. My weary carcass was covered with abrasions; I had dried blood matted in my hair and fingers wrinkled like anaemic prunes. “He looks rougher than road kill,” the first officer joked, wrapping a heat reflective blanket around me, as if he was covering burnt barbecue scraps in tinfoil.The second officer offers me a plastic bottle. “This’ll help you, sir.”“No, it’s too late...” I whisper.“Suit yourself, sir,” he says, “I was—-““She was with...
Winner of Contest #136 🏆
I remember our first cigarettes together were Rothmans, middle tar, with a filter, of course. It was ten o’clock on a Saturday night and we were attending a local church’s youth club disco. I recall that she’d gone outside for a breath of air.God, I could do with a gasper, she’d said, avoiding my gaze, as if we were on stage and I’d forgotten my lines while searching for a prop. I groped around inside my jacket for my pack of Rothmans. My awkward fumbling attracted her attention, and she smiled as I raised my head. She moved closer and ...
Submitted to Contest #135
Bohdan Kozak had lived on the outskirts of Kyiv all his life and he’d seen Russian tanks trundle past his front door before. Thirty-five years ago, his house had trembled on its foundations as dozens of heavy old Soviet T-62’s retreated East to Moscow. He could still recall the thunderous approach and the sulphurous fumes left in their wake. His wife, Oxana, had compared them to a flight of cantankerous dragons suffering from acute halitosis. They’d laughed at the time and brushed off their home’s minor structural damage as one of life’s unf...
Submitted to Contest #134
Vladimir adjusted his heavy winter jacket as he trudged up the icy metal staircase outside the observation tower. He’d always aimed the Agency’s electro-telescope outwards, beyond the known solar system. Tonight is different. The observatory’s entire structure creaks as its viewing dome rotates one hundred and eighty degrees. Vladimir refocuses on a glimmering blue orb thirty-four million miles away, his home planet’s closest neighbour.#It had been almost two thousand years since the exodus from the third planet. Earth’s ten thousand survivo...
Submitted to Contest #130
I don’t believe anyone living before 2025 imagined how much human existence would alter due to the virus’s proliferation and mutation. In that innocent period before nations experienced wide scale loss of life, world leaders lured their naive citizens into believing the pandemic was manageable. The populace queued ad nauseam for their vaccinations, and cowering behind their paper masks, they chanted the government’s hocus-pocus mantra ‘hands face space’.#Within a decade, the entire nation was reduced to nameless communiti...
Submitted to Contest #128
I listened and waited for Lizzie to say, ‘when’ as I poured the milk into her teacup. Adding milk was the easy part, having committed to memory the exact shade of her favourite beverage. She’d always smile and claim my expertise was more due to luck than judgement. I’d chuckle in response and put it down to my discerning eye and training with inscrutable baristas in far-flung lands.‘Almost perfect,’ she’d say, after judging the colour of the steaming brew.‘You’d expect no less,’ I’d say, and she’d raise a finger to curtail our exchange and c...
Submitted to Contest #127
The fierce midday light accentuated the fissures in the baked earth around our farmhouse, making them look like the collapsed arteries supporting a cadaver’s withered heart.At the rear of the property, Pop was wrestling with our water well’s crank handle, as if he was a deranged organ grinder extracting music by force from some obstinate contraption.Inside the kitchen, I could hear the mournful tune of the aluminium bucket as it clunked and clanked its way down the rough-hewn shaft. It had the dreadful chime of a lost wai...
Last New Year’s Eve I celebrated the occasion with a group of friends in central London. We all agreed to meet up at Bar Italia for a civilised coffee and a flaming Sambuca before progressing round the bars and clubs of the West End. The rain that was forecast never arrived and it was mild evening for late December. Late night revellers arrived by underground hoping to see out the old year in style. Shoals of bright young creatures swam down busy the streets of Soho on a rolling tide of alcohol and gay abandon. It had been a tough year and w...
After thirty-two years of loyal service at Warburton, Flickwick and Featherstone Inc., Charles Swinburne had run out of excuses for avoiding the annual Christmas party.For over three decades, he’d missed the event by wriggling out of arrangements, dodging invitations and feigning the symptoms of every non-fatal virus known to humanity. Not that Charles disliked or shunned his workmates; he just didn’t like large social gatherings. Two was company and three gathered at the water cooler was a crowd, by his reckoning. On a one-to-one basis, he ...
Submitted to Contest #123
George Hartley stared down at the rows of assorted parents, parent-governors, teachers and siblings and his stomach tightened like a boiled crustacean. He wiped a moist hand on his innkeeper’s shirt and disguised a dry cough with an acrid smelling palm. Mr Brewer queued George from the wings and directed him to take centre stage. George swallowed and stepped forward to hit his mark underneath sizzling spotlights. Two costumed classmates trudged towards him; one with a false beard and the other bearing a pillow stuffed inside her voluminous g...
I knew this shortcut was a bad idea as soon as we slowed down to twenty miles per hour. In retrospect, twenty miles per hour was fine, because we’ve been stationary for three hours and now my stomach’s complaining like a blocked drain. It sounds like it’s got a voice of its own and it isn’t shy about speaking its mind.#Late night Christmas shopping is never a great idea on an empty stomach. Jenny and I met up in town after work on Christmas Eve, each clutching our lists of necessary purchase suggestions. We’d left everything to the last minu...
Submitted to Contest #121
There’s no doubt about it. Olga and I are grateful to the state for allowing us to work at the Hotel Cosmos. At our time in life and advanced age, there aren’t many other countries that would look after us in this way. We get to see each other at lunchtime and the chef saves us a plate of the day’s special for our evening meals. If it weren’t for the relentless nature of the work and the freezing cold conditions, we’d be laughing all the way home.#Vladimir is a stubborn old fool, but he’s my silly old fool and after sixty years of marriage, ...
Submitted to Contest #120
The recent lockdown gave me time at home and at last I’d run out of excuses. For over thirty years, I’d been meaning to sift through that box of paperwork and letters. It’s not that I procrastinate, you understand; I’ve always attended to my affairs and left no correspondence unanswered. However, blowing the dust off my family’s heirlooms was a daunting task. An ideal moment hadn’t happened, or maybe I’d avoided making the time. # So, being honest, I’d chosen to forget about the chore, given there were two hundred envelopes to open...
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