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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2023
Submitted to Contest #267
Fairweather skipped down Willow Lane, her uneven pigtails bouncing like springs, eyes wide with wonder at her new surroundings. The quaint houses lining the street morphed in her imagination: a thatched cottage became a gingerbread house, a brick bungalow, a dwarf's underground lair. But it was the house at the end of the lane that truly captivated her - a grand Victorian house, set away from the street, its weathered façade of red brick with black brick diamonds nearly hidden behind a riot of climbing roses and twisting vines. To Fairweathe...
Submitted to Contest #265
The crew from Karl’s flight stood in a circle. Their luggage piled in a black mass. One was making bird shapes with his hands, another crumpled a paper plane against the splayed finger-wings. Karl beat back his wild imagination. 'They should know better,' he thought. Cancelled flights were stressful enough without that sort of imagery.Karl circumnavigated the three gate kiosks. The air was filled with the hum of machinery and the chatter of countless voices. “Please wait for further announcements,” flashed on screens around the gate. Other p...
Submitted to Contest #252
Paxton pulled over for the third time, desperately searching the bumper for any sign he might have hit the scrawny tabby he often saw prowling at dusk. But the car was clean, as it had been the last two times.“Going on a hike for my gad-dang mental health.”The trailhead emerged like an oasis of serenity. Towering pines, afternoon sun. A gentle breeze carried the piney scent of the forest, a respite from the relentless noise of the city.The gravel around the visitor’s station sends up a cloud of dust as he parks. Paxton closes the windows and...
Submitted to Contest #243
The row of heads bobbed at a steady pace. Surely not much further. We’ve walked for a while now, and we’re tired from tests and injections.Impossible to say how long we’ve been walking. The corridors pulsed and contracted around us, breathing in time with our shuffling steps. The metal walls glistened with a sickly sweat that beaded and congealed into runnels, adding another layer to the already suffocating miasma. It’s always the same—walk forward, make a sharp left turn, continue forward for another hundred thirty-two paces, make a sharp r...
Beyond the unfashionable fringes of the galaxy, loomed a haze of raspberry scented dust. Within it was Dirt, and on that planet, the drab city of Neo-Dulwich. There, in the quiet hours between way-to-work coffee and brunch, the humans left us alone in our cafe. A spiral galaxy, a goldfish, then a flower pictogram bloomed from our pen while the futures flowed through us. We titled the piece, in green ink, “HNT314/122”. Cow bells attached to the door rattled as it opened. Our tenant, Joe, clutched at the frame for support. He was not into rep...
We often say life is abundant, but intelligence is scarce. Through a century of search, humanity has found the Drake Equation overly optimistic, its predictions littering the cosmos like discarded dreams. Humans were utterly alone.The archeologist bound across the surface of Kepler-186f’s barren third moon, her boots leaving transient impressions on the ancient regolith, a palimpsest soon to be overwritten. Gravitational anomalies had pinged the moon’s survey drones weeks ago, yet the high-res images revealed nothing but more lunar desolatio...
Submitted to Contest #242
[tw gore, insane ravings, eldritch corruption]Sarah's palms left moist patches on the worn desk as she cursed the volunteer manager for leaving her to conduct the "Relics of the Occult" tour alone. Her notecards were smeared with sweat stains. She was not ready, but she had run out of time.She slid past the massive alcohol filled container of an immature leviathan and shelves full of specimen vats. Their unblinking eyes upturned in perverse supplication.She let herself through the armored door, piercing the insulated, fireproof glass wall, b...
Submitted to Contest #232
[Contains mystery meat, groping, and violence.]I often think of the beasts that came to our window.The day I saw the first beast, I had had been standing at the sink washing dishes. My mind wandered, as was often the case. My main illumination was the bulb over our kitchen window. It flickered with each gust of wind that rattled the glass.I’d lost count of the days since I last saw the sun—flecked with spots, like roasted chestnuts, sinking behind the mountains. The darkness had settled heavy as damp wool across the valley.Back then, we stil...
Submitted to Contest #231
[Content warning, mild domestic violence, mental health topics]The acrid scent of gasoline hangs in the air, mingling with the earthy fragrance of the once-grand oak tree, now reduced to scattered remnants. Gnarled branches of what was once a steadfast presence, lies defeated. The severed trunk whispers of rot and dis-ease.The crackle of a downed power line, snagged by a branch, punctuated the quiet. James stood in the wreckage’s shadow, his weathered face illuminated by a flickering match. Shaking, he lit a stale cigarette. He took a long d...
Submitted to Contest #230
(Warning, contains scenes of prejudice within the themes of ASD and intersexuality)Zara observed the crowd with the clinical fascination of a zoologist. The splatter of rain took the people by surprise, triggering a bizarre ritual of newspaper shields. A moment later, when lightning forked across the darkening sky, the odd behavior became clear. Perhaps the storms in this city are stronger than those back home? The crowd scrambled in a herd-like exodus for cover.Lacking any protection from the deluge, Zara allowed themself to be swept along ...
Shortlisted for Contest #229 ⭐️
With rumblings of war rolling along the coastline, the knock startled Cecil. His grip tightened on the pewter plates as a sense of foreboding took hold. Opening the door revealed a handsome stranger, with refined features as if carved from marble. He had jet black hair and eyes that glinted like cold steel. “Good evening, and happy Christmas” said the stranger in a rich baritone. “My apologies for the intrusion, but it seems my carriage has lost a wheel just up the road. Might I trouble you for some shelter from the cold while my man f...
Submitted to Contest #228
The tide lapped hungrily at Waxham Sands Beach. Dr Jeffrey Ames, clad in a neoprene drysuit, waded into the murky water, ready for his third attempt to collect samples from an unidentified siphonophore. The radio at his shoulder crackled to life as the shore team checked his status amid the lapping waves. Jeffrey raised a gloved hand. The iodine scent of the local beach was welcoming. Waxham was lovely, he thought. Next time he should bring Josephine. He turned to the sea. Seafoam collided against his mask when he dived under the surf. He wo...
Submitted to Contest #227
The assortment of afflicted souls gathered for this weekly meeting of Deamonicus Anonymous was shaping up to be the usual suspects. Pazuzu, the Assyrian demon, was lying on its back, legs in the air, wings twisted in unnatural angles. Pazuzu seemed lost in its own world, repeating, “I am Pazuzu, son of Hanbu.” Dave, having experienced Pazuzu’s peculiar behavior, gave it a wide berth. It looked like it wanted belly rubs and chose the coat rack to entice unwitting victims. Dave mutters to himself, “I’m not a tree, I’m not a tree” as he navigat...
Submitted to Contest #226
The holidays always brought out the worst in people. In the previous shift, some festive do-gooder had put seasonal bunting on each of the desks. His crumpled orange and black bunting was round-filed before he sat down. Jackson wasn’t the only officer offended by the reminder that the precinct was open 24/7, holidays included. The station was subdued, almost gloomy. Something had shifted in the last few months, an unspoken tension that lingered beneath the surface. Internal Affairs was still sniffing around. Several officers, usually the one...
Submitted to Contest #225
Nobody on the ground was hurt in the crash, Thames Valley Police said, but the extent of the pilot’s injuries is unknown. *** My wife saw him first. She’d heard my stories, even liked the song I played for her. Lyn pushed me forward. “You’ve met him already. Just say hello,” she said. “I can see the resemblance. Though you’re wider than him. And he’s better looking.” She made a show of wiggling her eyebrows. “Ask him if he’s single. I might trade up.” “Thanks.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve got some shopping to do for Wren…and you.” With a quick ...
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