Imogen Bird

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020

Stories (19)

19 Stories

545 karma pts

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“My Moiras” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #274

The red window had always been Moira's sign that she was almost home. A perpetual glow emanated from the room behind the ancient, misty glass panes at the top of the weed riddled red brick building, so curiously out of place between the silvery new-build flats to the right and the stark white light from the mini-mart to the left. Her almost-home marker was constant, Moira had never once witnessed the room unlit. Moving quickly along the pavement she would catch a glimpse of the source of the light for only a moment. A chintz lamp, atop a dar...

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“One Final Trip” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #269

It had started raining.Jodie hadn't actually realised it was, until the folds of her shirt had begun clinging to her stomach, rapidly chilling, sticky ice, now noticed- unbearable. It must have been a while since the sun had disappeared and the clouds had covered the sky, but more worrying than the precipitation was the expanse of sodden ground she had covered without notice. Jodie picked at her damp clothes, annoying sensations of gripping fabric mixing with her worried retrospective about all the roads she had crossed outside of cognisance...

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“Now and Then” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #252

Not for the first time in his life, John got the feeling he was being followed. The rippling reflection of the moon in the canal glowed pale and eerie, his own echoing footsteps the only ones discernable and yet, he just knew there was someone there. Aunt Mimi was always warning John not to walk home on the canal path and instead stick to the busy and well lit streets, but he prefered the solitude and peace of the narrow lane next to the water, wending its way purposefully through the city, a more direct route home avoiding the rowdy drunks ...

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“The Optimist's Handbook” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #251

The moment Astrid truly accepted that her favourite book wasn't a work of fiction was the moment she decided she had no other option than to eject herself out of the airlock.She wasn't the first to come to this rather extreme conclusion after reading the title, but the population of Gen-Ship-Six had yet to notice the connection between the innocuous title amongst the recently deceased possessions and the series of grisly suicides that had followed it's odyssey through readers hands.Astrid had found the book in the redistribution centre. A co...

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“Poise and Rationality” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #250

Clara clicked the heavy wooden door closed behind her as quietly as she possibly could before realising her stupid floaty dress was caught in it. Cursing silently, she unlatched the creaky catch and freed herself. She had re-routed herself halfway around the stately home in an attempt to avoid Simon. There was a definite inevitability to their meeting today but she wanted to put that encounter off as long as possible. Preferably until after she'd had the chance to down at least four proseccos. Wedding traditions had been playing on her mind ...

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“Fifth Race” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #235

It's an age old adage, you don't need to be able to outrun the bear, you just need to outrun your companion. I had subscribed wholeheartedly to this idea, until it was my little brother falling behind me, slipping slowly into the jaws of hell.There aren't actually any bears in Rekilm, the beasts we run from are far more calculated and even more tenacious than any animal you can imagine. They proliferated from the Earth's day of reckoning hundreds of years ago. A rapture without the salvation for the faithful. The world is now past any kind o...

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“The Last Suitor” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #230

Mother had always taught me to knock before entering a lady's dwelling. I had dutifully followed this social norm imagining it was all underpinned by politeness and deference. But as I swing here, upside down, clutched in the grasp of a monstrous beast, the posy of lavender and dasies that I had been holding just minutes before when I entered the room strewn on the floorboards above my head, I can't help but wonder if the convention actually exists on the off chance the lady turns out to be a werewolf. When Flora arrived in the village in ...

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“The Dawn of time” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #205

It's Friday night again and I can't find my way to choir practice. I rummage around in my beaten up backpack for my dogeared notebook and flip through until I see 'Choir' written in large purple embellished letters. Copying the address from the page into the map in my phone I follow the directions and end up outside an imposing red brick building somewhere in the city. I remember now, it's the black door on the south side to get in. I look up the 4 digit access code in my notebook and punch it in to the box on the wall. Once inside though, I...

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“Behind the Pane” by Imogen Bird

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #106

It would be so lovely to go to an art gallery again. To look into the oil and canvas windows framed in gold. My window is framed in plastic, off-white and not quite as clean as it should be for a hospital. At first glance you would think it was fine, but as you keep looking you see that thin trim of dust, slightly too far into the crevice for the hurried cleaners to properly wipe away. The sticky remnants of something that was peeled off years ago in the bottom right corner, attracting fibers, making me itch to rub it clean. That would be we...

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“The Revolutions” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #61

2663 Mr Dean knew that Kane was passing notes again, as he was purposefully trying not to hide it. Kane seemed to have decided to teach his own lesson within Mr Dean's class, one where Mr Dean was the sole pupil and was to be enlightened that even if he confiscated his xCube, Kane still wasn't going to pay attention. Mr Dean thought about how much he wanted to throw Kane out of the window. "The first revolution that started the human race's journey to where we are today began in the late eighteenth century. The Industrial Revolution is r...

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“What Darren Wrote” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #46

Before today Miss Evans had never heard of a six year old who could spell 'Nihilism' or 'Simulation Hypothesis', let alone use them in a sentence. She sat, slumped over the desk, head in hands, re-reading Darren's work from today's English lesson. His usual purposeful hand, the bold lettering of a child still trying to master cursive had been replaced on this particular piece of work with a frantic scratchy scrawl that went on for pages and pages of his tatty workbook. Miss Evans was at a loss to explain this piece of writing. It s...

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“Leland's bar” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #44

Oh boy did the government fire a blank when they hired me. The out of touch jackasses at the top never accounted for the wills and capabilities of a man taken advantage of. Mind you, it isn't just me. New York is thick with deception. You'd have to look for many miles to find a man who didn't want a drink, a man who wasn't chasing away his ghosts from the war with whisky or gin.I stalk the streets at night, playing the part, turning over a beer barrel here or there. The big boys don't pry if you are seen to be doing even a little something, ...

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“Fifteens” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #42

Everyone gets to speak for fifteen minutes, that's how our democracy works. Actually, I should say everyone must talk for fifteen minutes, that's how the law works.I'm queuing up outside this drab television building with too many other people, it's drizzling slightly, but we have to stay here, not enough space inside. It's like when I went to the embassy to get my US visa, all waiting, minimal talking, a quick look of suspicion and a stamp later, I walked out a bit more free than when I went in. I'd felt like they were doing it on purpose, ...

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“His Black Umbrella” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #41

As was his normal Tuesday morning inner monologue, Gareth started wondering if he really could stretch his wage to allow himself a tiny crash pad in the city. Splashing his way down the narrow path between the railway tracks and the blocky warehouses he fantasied about how much he wouldn't miss this depressing fifteen minute walk to the station, or the condensation dripping down the windows on the packed commuter train he was heading towards. A man in a much more expensive suit than Gareth's barged past and stabbed him in the head with the p...

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“Just find North” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #39

In the end, what use is North when no matter what direction you go, there is no salvation to be reached? Flo stared up at the vast array of mocking lights, a map she could not read. Vaguely she recalled The North Star was the brightest in the sky, but was that true? Out here in the unpolluted desert every star seemed like the brightest, layered atop each other. The longer she fixed on a single point, the more stars revealed themselves, crammed in the gaps between others. A never ending tessellation that she dizzily fell into as her knee...

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Author bio

Small Biz Admin Assistant, embroidery fan, festival nut, procrastination pro. Published at 16. Living in Kent, wishing I had a dog.

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #106
Behind the Pane – read story