Jeremy Burgess

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2024

Stories (4)

4 Stories

129 karma pts

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“Lunacy” by Jeremy Burgess

Submitted to Contest #245

Standing in the cold stone hallway of Castle Halgar, the High Priestess Assanda assessed Prince Cordus, her amber eyes finding him wanting. "Now that you have returned to court, you will need to do as I say should you wish to remain breathing," she said. She was an imposing woman of generous frame and voluminous robe, white  braided with gold, as was customary for the Church of the Sky. Around her neck hung the holy sigil, a polished stone black circle with a thin gold rim, and a point of silver in the middle. She wore no makeup of any ...

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“The Forest for the Bears” by Jeremy Burgess

Submitted to Contest #244

Mrs Bear arrived in my office on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, unannounced. She wasn't your standard Grizzly, a snappy dresser in a long scarlet number that had to have been tailored to fit; Ursus Arctos Fashionista.  "Ms Lox, I hear you have a knack for infidelity," she growled, low and thunderous. "Finding it, not participating in it," I replied dryly, "what's it to you?" She dropped a roll of bills on my desk and said, "you're the investigator, you tell me." I looked her up and down. She wasn't the typical jilted wife or sobbing sta...

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“"Hey, Alf"” by Jeremy Burgess

Submitted to Contest #243

Bloop! I remind Alf about his appointment — he's supposed to have his call with his friends at 10AM, which is now. I let him know ten minutes ago as well, just as he asked, so he should be ready. He didn't respond then though, so he could be doing anything. I wait patiently, as always, and at 10:02 he gets started. He opens the blue application and turns on the camera. I like it when he turns on the camera, it means I can see him. He's wearing his green sweater (my favourite), and his thick rimmed glasses. His hair is thinning and grey, he's...

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“The Greatness of Gletsby” by Jeremy Burgess

Submitted to Contest #242

Saucer eyed, Jeanine stared, her stomach sinking as it filled with a mix of apprehension, butterflies, and just a sprinkle of despair. To her right was the display of the taxidermied body of Gletsby's most famous racing greyhound, Harlequin's Dancer. To her left, no longer attached to its haunches, was Harlequin's Dancer's head. She bit her lower lip as mild panic began to set in and her gaze bounced back and forth between the two parts of the celebrated animal. Her first thought was that it must not have been attached all that well to have ...

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Author bio

I am a New Zealander living in Te-Whanganui-a-Tara. I write for leisure and one day hope to put something much longer to paper. I'm looking to improve and grow as a writer, so all constructive feedback is welcome!