Jethro Pili

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2021

Stories (129)

129 Stories

286 karma pts

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“Winds of Change” by Jethro Pili

Alex Barrett stared at the plate of cookies on the table in front of him like they were land mines. He’d grown up knowing that his family’s Christmas gatherings were practically synonymous with sugar overload—gingerbread men, snickerdoodles, sugar-dusted shortbread, chocolate crinkles, and those famous chocolate-covered marshmallow Santas, not to mention all the grease and red meat—Christmas feasts at the Barrett household could put Henry VIII and his court with their lavish banquets to shame. It was always mouth-watering and tantalizing—a f...

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“Tarnished Silver” by Jethro Pili

The air was crisp, a late autumn chill lingering as the group of friends gathered outside Catherine’s apartment. There had been a sense of anticipation building up for weeks—a night out to see Tarnished Silver, a modern retelling of the Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere legend. It wasn’t just any play. It had been the subject of many conversations, debates, and even playful arguments. They’d all agreed to go, though not without some amount of skepticism.Catherine was already in a good mood, grinning as she slid into Randy’s car, her arm drape...

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“A Candle on the Window Sill (A Soldier’s Peace)” by Jethro Pili

The snow fell in quiet waves outside the modest farmhouse near Winchester, Virginia. Its blanket muffled the sharpness of December, shrouding the land as if to obscure the memory of the war that had so recently swept across it. Inside, the warm glow of the fireplace softened the worn edges of the home, though the corners still bore the ghostly chill of loss.  John Abernathy sat alone at the kitchen table, running his thumb along the rim of an empty coffee cup. He stared at the window, where a single candle burned on the sill, its wax po...

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“It’s The Most Horrible Time Of The Year” by Jethro Pili

Snow fell like whispers from a sky burning red, each flake darker than coal and softer than ash. Ethan pulled his jacket tighter, though he knew the cold was only in his head. It wasn’t the freezing air that made his breath hitch but the uneasy sense that none of this was right. It was Christmas Eve, after all—his favorite time of the year. His mother’s living room was aglow with fairy lights, and the faint scent of pine mixed with baked goods should have been comforting.  But the snow was black—as black as the vilest sin. The sky was s...

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“A Diversion” by Jethro Pili

The small, dimly lit living room at 431 Maple Street was thick with tension. The brown and orange wallpaper—once cheery in its retro charm—seemed oppressive in the muted evening light. Six people sat uneasily on the worn couches and chairs, their expressions wary. On the coffee table lay a small stack of uneaten cookies and a pitcher of untouched lemonade. No one was in the mood.Bruce would be here any minute.“He’s going to explode,” whispered Emily, the youngest of the group, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of her chair. Her brig...

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“Ten Thousand Words To Redemption” by Jethro Pili

Chapter 1: The End of a Byline The newsroom was unnaturally quiet. Too quiet. Brian Combs adjusted his tie and glanced down at his resignation letter, the words blurring together and dancing despite his best effort to focus. His editor, Diane Monroe, loomed behind her desk, reading the letter silently. Her face remained neutral, but her eyes burned with disappointment like the disappointment of a parent over their rebellious child when they know their child should know better and could do so much better. Like a parent who is faced with their...

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“January 1, 2019” by Jethro Pili

The icy air of New York gripped Officer Shaan Patel as he clicked his seatbelt into place in the patrol car. His partner, Victor Velasquez, sat beside him, fiddling with the radio. It was New Year’s morning, early enough that the drunks from Times Square had all staggered home, and only the sirens remained to herald the city’s daybreak.“We’re in for an easy shift,” Velasquez muttered. He glanced at Patel with a lopsided grin. “You still hanging onto that ‘New Year, new me’ stuff?”Patel snorted. “Someone’s gotta make resolutions around here, ...

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“First Do No Harm” by Jethro Pili

Trigger/Content Warning: Illness and wrongful patient death On a cold and rainy Washington fall evening, Dr. Summer Smith adjusted the microphone stand with trembling fingers as a sea of reporters filled the Seattle Hope Memorial Hospital pressroom. Cameras clicked relentlessly, capturing every micro-expression, every subtle sign of emotion, and every crack in her voice. She took a deep breath, clutching a small stack of index cards with her neatly written notes, but it was no use. No script could frame this moment. She looked up and caught ...

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“A World Rekindled” by Jethro Pili

The land of Everdark knew no hope. Beneath the perpetual gloom that blanketed the skies and veiled the ground, life persisted in a desperate monotony. The stars were blind eyes. The sun and moon were legends whispered among the weary, passed down from eras forgotten. No one alive had seen the light; no one even believed it to exist. And yet, they feared what they did not understand—the promise of a brighter world, whispered in shadows by prophets too bold for their time.  For 4,000 years, darkness reigned unchallenged, its grip enforced...

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“1916 On Christmas Day” by Jethro Pili

December 25, 1916—No Man’s Land  Frost clung to the churned mud, slick and unforgiving under his boots, as Corporal William “Will” Morgan adjusted his woolen scarf against the bitter wind. The war had chewed up and spat out countless young men like himself, reducing them to numbers, statistics on a commander’s report. Yet here he stood, gripping an aging leather football, feeling more alive than he had in months.  The unofficial truce had taken on a momentum of its own. Both the British and the Germans had emerged cautiously from t...

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“The Eyeless” by Jethro Pili

Trigger warning: Mention of depression and suicide. It was the annual Viking News Christmas party, and the newsroom hummed with the kind of festive cheer that only came once a year. Fluorescent lights reflected off garlands of tinsel, paper snowflakes hung askew from the ceiling, and “All I Want for Christmas Is You” blasted from a single, slightly battered Bluetooth speaker near the conference room. Beneath the mistletoe, sports reporter Danny Van Hoosier had been sneakily trying to engineer a kiss, much to the chagrin of gossip columnist K...

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“ The Enemy of My Enemy” by Jethro Pili

Noah Harper nearly tripped over the brown box as he stepped onto his front porch that muggy afternoon. It was unmarked, plain, and unassuming—a cardboard rectangle set squarely in front of his door like it belonged there. Frowning, he glanced up and down the quiet cul-de-sac, as if expecting a mischievous neighbor or delivery driver to pop out and yell “Surprise!” But no one was there. The heat of late summer had driven everyone indoors. The cicadas screamed endlessly, their drone vibrating in Noah’s ears. Shifting uneasily, he crouched...

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“Nooma” by Jethro Pili

In the high sanctuaries of the Eternal Sky, where only wind and starlight dwelled, I existed before time measured itself. The creatures of Merenthys called me Nooma, goddess of the wind, love, beauty, and stars—but names have never mattered to me. I was only what the wind whispered, what hearts swore, what eyes beheld in awe when they looked to the heavens above. Some nights I manifested as a cool breeze threading through forests, carrying the scent of pine to tired wanderers. Other nights, I was the warm caress across a lover’s cheek when w...

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“Winter’s Icy Grip” by Jethro Pili

Snow blanketed the little house on Old Bluebird Lane, so heavy and thick it piled against the windows like sand dunes. The wind howled outside, making the old walls groan in protest. Inside, everything felt still, save for the rhythmic crackle of the fire struggling valiantly against the cold. Claire adjusted the worn fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she watched her husband Jim toss another log onto the dying embers. Their two kids, Lucy and Nate, sprawled on the living room floor, each tucked into their respective mounds ...

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“‘Twas The Blizzard Before Christmas” by Jethro Pili

St. Augustine’s Boarding School for Catholic Youngsters was abuzz with excitement on the last day before winter break. Freshmen scurried through the halls, hauling suitcases and gift bags, anticipating the moment they’d see their families again. Christmas carols echoed through the building, adding cheer to the fading gray light of an early winter evening.  But in the corner of the student lounge, 14-year-old Rebecca Alvarez sat with her chin on her knees, frowning at her phone screen. “Zero precipitation,” she grumbled for the third tim...

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