Jenna P

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2022

Stories (4)

4 Stories

18 karma pts

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“Midnight Sun” by Jenna P

I sit here at my desk looking out the window. As I look at the sunset going behind the buildings of the city my thoughts drift to my father. These thoughts hit me square in the chest. Memories of all the times we spent together while I was growing up. All the adventures we had in the woods tracking and trailing deer, hogs, and so much more. The times we spent out on the water, coming in sweaty and sunburned. The realization that I have let the busyness of life get in the way overwhelms me. I have allowed it to distract me ...

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“Pieces” by Jenna P

I lay in my bed awake, I do this a lot now. The not sleeping, the thinking of the what ifs. Finally, I climbed out of our bed. My feet hit the cool wood floors, I find myself walking softly down the hall, not wanting to wake you. I get to the kitchen and get a cool glass of water. As I stand here drinking, the memories wash over me. I go cold through my veins, tears pooling in my eyes. I remember you are no longer here. No longer sleeping beside me, no need for me to sneak downstairs. To tiptoe quietly, not wanting to disturb your need...

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“Little Blue House” by Jenna P

Everyday when I wake up and walk into my kitchen, I look out and see the man that lives in the blue house across the street is already gone. He wakes up before the rest of the neighborhood and drives his little blue car to his bakery. His house is small, the paint is chipping, and the porch is a little crooked. His grass gets long because he works so much. He has no time to mow and no money to pay someone to do it. He is hardly ever there, he is trying so hard to just survive. Sometimes I look outside and see the red notices pinned to the d...

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“Survive” by Jenna P

Submitted to Contest #135

I woke up thinking about coffee, so vividly I could smell it. It's been months since I had a cup, since I held the warm mug in my hand, steam rising and fogging up my glasses. I can even hear it brewing, the hiss and gurgle of the percolator. I force myself to open my eyes. I look around and see I'm the first one up. I'm stiff and sore, sleeping on the ground isn't something I have gotten used to. I stand up and stretch out my joints, creaking and popping as I do. I stifle a moan and stoke up the fire. I stand here warming...

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Author bio

Just a mom and a nurse finding her love of writing.