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Jane Andrews

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

Stories (87)

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512 Followers

28 Following

87 Stories

3411 karma pts

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Family Secret

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #186

Trigger warning: sexual abuse, self harm, suicide As darkness settles into every corner of the bedroom, fear begins its nightly assault. She lies immobile, watching, waiting. Soon, the nightmare will be at her door; the heaviness inside her grows as she thinks about it. His hands holding her down. His knee forcing her legs apart. Tears staining her face afterwards. Dread builds as her ears strain to listen for the thud of footsteps, the gentle sound of the door being opened. Strange that a monster can be so quiet, that a frame so large c...

14 likes

In Pieces

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #186

Trigger warning: mental health, physical violence, suicide.Author’s note: This is a dadaistic piece and is composed entirely of fragments of lyrics from the following songs (in alphabetical order of artists): ‘Where The Wild Roses Grow’, Nick Cave; ‘Fix You’, Coldplay; ‘Afterglow’, ‘In the Glow of the Night’, ‘Snowbound’, ‘The Last Domino’ and ‘Throwing It All Away’, Genesis; ‘Burning Buildings’, Elton John; ‘Crying’ and ‘It’s Over’, Roy Orbison; ‘Smallcreep’s Day’, Mike Rutherford; ‘You’re Not The Man’, Sade; ‘How Can I Tell You?’ and ‘Ruby...

19 likes

Broken Hearts and Baronets

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #185

Henry Davenport was broke. He’d frittered away most of the fortune his father had left him – wine, women and cards were expensive hobbies – and was down to his last few hundreds. “You need a rich wife, Harry,” Josiah remarked as they cantered through the forest one fine autumn afternoon. “A girl with enough money to keep you in the manner to which you’re accustomed.” Henry nudged Lady’s reins gently. The mare was spirited, but he managed to let her know who was in charge. Women were a lot like horses: once you’d broken them in, you could e...

20 likes

Memories and Dreams

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #184

Sensitive content: mistreatment of indigenous people; mental healthIt started with the nightmares.Jed was jerked out of sleep by a frantic hammering on the door of his house. Stumbling a little in the darkness, he fumbled for his pants. He couldn’t let the townsfolk see the sheriff in his long johns.Hal Avery’s boy stood there. Wild-eyed. Staring. Behind him, his mother clutched a shawl about her shoulders with one hand, the other soothing Tom the way you’d gentle a horse.“It’s mighty late for a social call,” Jed remarked, noting the ha...

20 likes

Klingons Have Feelings Too

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #183

“Ah, Mr Chekhov, I was just admiring your gun.” As a chat up line, it isn’t great, but we’re at a Star Trek party (the original 1960s TV series, not any of the spin-offs or the much cooler, recently reimagined films), organised by my friend Jake, who just happens to be Nick (aka Chekhov)’s housemate. “It’s not a gun…” – his words are laced with flirtation – “…I’m just really pleased to see you.” He’s lying, of course – no one, no matter how well-endowed, has a detachable member that he can conveniently tuck into a holster at his side. But...

15 likes

Mike didn't come home last night

Jane Andrews

Shortlisted for Contest #182 ⭐️

“Mike didn’t come home last night.”I gaze at Mia, her lip trembling as the words escape in a jerky sob, and try to find the right platitudes to make her feel better. He loves you. He wouldn’t cheat on you. He probably just needs a bit of alone time. I know I should feel sympathy but I can’t help thinking, I told you so.The first time I met him, I knew Mike Dalton was bad news. Tall and dark with just the right amount of designer stubble and eyes that invited you to bed the moment you looked at him, he smouldered raw sexuality. He wouldn’t be...

32 likes

Love Rat

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #143

153 was spiteful – at least, that was what everyone else told her. Marcy didn’t believe any of them: Henry had only bitten one person to her knowledge and that was a research student with a sadistic streak who’d tried to lace the rats’ food with chilli sauce. She herself would have bitten anyone who’d tried something like that with her. No, Henry was far and away the cutest rat she’d ever worked with – and the smartest too.She was observing him now, watching his whiskers twitch as he stared back at her. In her notebook, she jotted down, ‘153...

17 likes

Hungry For Love

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #133

Notes for American readers: I realise there are lots of references here to British chocolate (candy) bars which may not be familiar to American readers, so you might want to google Nestle Matchmakers to get an idea of what a Matchmaker looks like. (Maltesers have been on sale in the US since 2017.) A Feast is an iconic British ice cream on a stick and Tesco is a well-known and popular supermarket chain in the UK – similar to Costco. ‘Bake Off’ is known in the USA as ‘The Great British Baking Show’. The recipe for the cake Julie makes as a gi...

14 likes

The Snow Globe (Mild reference to abduction/murder.)

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #120

Memories fill my mind as I gaze at the glass ball in my hand. As the late afternoon sun slowly dwindles into dusk, I am reminded of another winter’s afternoon like this one. Three years ago, my sister was murdered, on a dark December day when the sky was full of snow and frost glittered on branches and windowpanes. The weather then was crisp and cold, much as it is today, and the expectancy of Christmas hovered in the air. I remember looking out of my bedroom window, hoping that Sophie had worn her scarf and mittens, waiting impatiently fo...

14 likes

Doctoring the Truth

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #105

Snip! Snip! Snip! My long, dark tresses fall to the floor. My mother continues until my hair is shorn as short as any boy’s. “Put your brother’s old clothes on now,” she says, handing over a shirt and breeches. I look at my mother. We both know this is the only way for a woman to train as a doctor in 1809, but I am twenty years old and not flat-chested enough to pass scrutiny as a man. “I’ll bandage your breasts,” my mother says hurriedly. By the time we have finished, Margaret Ann Bulkley has been transformed into James Miranda Barry, an i...

21 likes

Unequilateral Triangle

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #105

You gaze at the man lying next to you – the perfect husband; the father of your children – and suddenly you realise that you don’t know him at all. She wasn’t prying when she discovered the email. He’d left his laptop lying open again and she went to shut it, before the kids could touch something and delete an important work file – and that’s when she saw it. It’s so hard not having you here all the time. When you come round, I think this is what life is supposed to be like, and then you hurry away at the end of the evening and I’m all alo...

20 likes

Waiting for Rachmaninoff

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #103

Alyssa has always heard music when she looks at people. One of her earliest memories is of gazing up at her mother and hearing a vibrant, comforting melody that she will much later identify as Grieg’s Morning. The notes and her mother are both full of optimism and joy: they wrap around her as she falls asleep at night and lift her spirits when she feels sad. Her father sounds like Grieg too, although as she grows older, she will always associate his more menacing presence with In The Hall Of The Mountain King. &...

16 likes

Love Waits Patiently

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #101

Winter mist weaves around me, threading its way in and out of trees and gravestones, incorporating everything into a pattern of death. Night has begun to fall: the soft, muted tones of twilight are gradually replaced with darker shades until the whole sky is tinted with ebony and even the stars seem unable to pierce the pervading darkness. In the stillness of the cemetery, not a sound can be heard apart from the frantic hammering of my own heart as I wait, alone, to see what will happen next. He said he would be here. My breath escapes in ra...

13 likes

Eel Stew

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #100

Wind howled at the widows and rain lashed down, but inside the manor, Sir Richard and his family were snug and dry. A log fire burned in the grate, and that – added to the rich tapestries on the walls – lent a sense of warmth to the oak-ceilinged great hall. At Sir Richard’s feet, his children fidgeted, impatient for the evening’s entertainment to begin. Little Tom was desperate to see the juggler: last time, the man had juggled with oranges, then eggs, then finally daggers, catching each one deftly whilst Tom and his sisters watched wide-e...

11 likes

Happy/Ever After

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #95

“Granny, do you think I should marry Roger?” Ella’s grandmother looks up from her knitting and regards her granddaughter. “Has he asked you?” Life has never seemed brighter since the day Ella and Roger first saw each other. Happiness cast a golden glow around the young couple as their eyes met across the room in a crowded KFC; the clamour of the customers sounded sweeter than birdsong; and even the pouring rain outside couldn’t dampen their delight at having found each other. It seemed like the perfect fairy tale – but happy endings rare...

11 likes