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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2022
Submitted to Contest #303
Today is a good day. The sun is shining and I can feel its warmth even before I leave my flat. Some days are better than others and this is one of those days. My bones tell me this and I never disagree with my bones. The decision has been made. I am on a course that has already been set. I love Alice too much to turn back now. A man needs a plan. My mother would tell me this over and over. Pay attention to the detail. It’s all in the preparation. And I have spent my sweet time preparing. I have my bag and I have everything worked out. I leav...
Submitted to Contest #302
The man that has introduced himself as Gary smiles. The smile is warm and loving. It radiates a gentle heat. He is a sun. He brings life. There is calm here. She looks around her. Her eyes are searching. Searching for something that will allow her confusion and anxiety to abate. Trying to make sense of her surroundings. Trying to make sense of herself in the context of these surroundings.Thoughts assail her, as they do us all. But these thoughts are dark ruffians stalking a Victorian landscape in her mind. There is no safety in these interna...
Submitted to Contest #301
I found myself feeling sorry for Micky. He’d backed the wrong horse. His were the values of a bygone era. I questioned whether those values had ever seen action. Ceremonial swords made to represent something better than the truth of the barbarity and shame of war. That was the wrong question. We’re trapped in Russian dolls of false paradigms waving our opinions around at whoever will listen, when no one is listening. Why would they listen when we ourselves are deaf to the reality of our situation? Micky’s problem was that he was fiercely lo...
Submitted to Contest #300
I’ve heard too many stories of the death of loved ones. That is enough for me. More than enough. Far too much. I’ve had gutfuls of that cold buffet and then some. And so I have retreated here. Where it’s safe. This is where I have always retreated when the fabric of my life has been torn asunder. This, my original home. The place that I now call home is not a patch on this. This is the blue print, but I am no artisan. I cannot discern this plan and I don’t have a clue as to how you would go about making a home such as this. My place is a con...
Submitted to Contest #299
When you look in the mirror, what do you see? Ben was looking in the mirror right now and wishing that he wasn’t. Thom’s words were, he knew, being taken out of context. He knew this because he was the one wilfully taking them out of that context. He could be quite contrary like that and if accused of such an attribute would deploy his contrariness on the denial of this mildly disagreeable nature of his. He was having a moment. This particular moment stalked Ben and would not let him go. He’d made a mistake and he’d been haunted by it ever s...
Submitted to Contest #298
The Spring sun lights the world beyond the window, and she sees it afresh. Where there were drab greys there is now the promise of vibrancy that will be fulfilled as the day itself progresses. There are no empty words here. There is a pending reality to the sun’s commitment to the Spring and Mother Nature is eagerly underwriting this union.She looks upon this scene and there is fear in her. There is no discerning the cause of that fear, only the source. She has been afraid all her life but became adept at drowning out the sounds of her fear ...
Submitted to Contest #297
The bedroom is the dressing up room. The changing room. The chrysalis state at the end of each day. An end, blissful, restful or otherwise. The illusory promise of a new beginning. The prelude of an awakening that never quite delivers. Not when you want it to. Not when you pin your hopes to its flag and expect those winds of hope to raise it to a fertile erection with life as its only objective. But there is nowhere else. This is the only cave of refuge. It is not safe. It is as safe as it gets. Of all the rooms in my house and my home, this...
Submitted to Contest #296
The night comes quickly. A flood tide. Washing the daylight away and replacing it with a muddy ambiguity. I’ve always liked the night. There is comfort in it. Day time glares at me, asking too many questions. It’s where the drudgery of reality resides. The slavery of work takes over contaminating all else. Even the weekend isn’t immune. Snatched moments that cost too much in every possible way. A reminder of sold souls and miserable existence. At least when the lights go down, there’s the promise of respite and more. The prospect of magic in...
Submitted to Contest #295
Terry was full of smiles. He was so full of smiles, there seemed very little else that he could contain. The constancy and energy of his smiles was disconcerting. Even the happiest of people faltered in the lighthouse of his self-assured grin. This could have been a problem. By rights, it should have been a stumbling block. But in equal measure, Terry cared and he also did not care. His was a certainty that either borrowed from the elements and from nature itself, or was of those things. He was genuinely happy and the well of his happiness w...
Life was a splinter filled helter-skelter. Monday morning slammed into the world with a brutal constancy and with it came the prospect of a thankless climb to a summit that would only send you crashing back down to the very bottom again. Bruised, dirtied and despondent at the bullying life dealt out on a cyclical basis. A bad automaton. Just doing its job. Just as you should do yours. Knowing your place was all very well. But that knowing could only ever be lip service. Detached words descriptive of something that felt as alien as a genuine,...
Submitted to Contest #294
“I love you.” And so it begins. He has uttered these words before, but never have they been so heartfelt. Never has so much ridden upon the saying of them. His heart beats rapidly and with an impossibility of sound that makes him fear he may be dying. And in a way, he is. Nothing will ever be the same again. His heart is marking an intransigent time that pulls him back into the moment and holds him there with a force that frightens and humbles him. For the very first time, he notices the fine hairs on her cheek. Like a peach, he thinks to hi...
On the face of it, John’s world was entirely as it was before, and yet it was as different as chalk was to cheese. John thought of cheese and what it had meant to him. He’d liked cheese and occasionally loved it with a respectful passion. Cheese was a constant friend and occasional lover. Now though, the thought of cheese left him perplexed. He knew he would continue to have cheese in his life. Cheese was necessary. But it didn’t hold the same appeal for him anymore. John and cheese had drifted apart. Everything had drifted. Except John. Joh...
Submitted to Contest #293
Leo was not a fan of flying. Not like this. Sitting quietly with strangers in an enclosed space. Like he was back in the classroom. That was one of his ideas of hell. He had many ideas of hell and very few of heaven. He made sure her was one of the first passengers on the plane. He took his seat with no fuss and no nonsense and then did his best to weather the storm of humanity around him. He tried the breathing technique his therapist had taught him and he also tried zoning out. Neither worked. A voice in his head was screaming at him to le...
There was a grating discomfort in all of this. She had never been good at being a back seat passenger. The dynamic was all wrong. Her introduction to this woeful place in the car hierarchy had taken place early in her life. Sitting with a view of the backs of her parent’s heads. There was rejection in this positioning. A cold ignorance that made her want to be elsewhere. Right now, she’d rather be anywhere other than here, but the conveyor belt of life compelled her to be exactly where she was, and there was no arguing with it. As a ch...
Dan looked out of the side window of the car. It was a necessarily fleeting glance that lingered for an alarming age. He knew he shouldn’t have. He was driving and his attention should have been on the road ahead and the many hazards queueing up to happen in front of him. Those hazards were awaiting such a lapse. But he did it all the same. Couldn’t help himself. It was a regression. A recreation of a childhood memory. Wiping the condensation from the window and looking out of the smudged glass at a world he was not a part of. Instead he was...
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