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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2024
Way down we go, down the gorge where the land and river’s hips mingle to the point where the earth and sky meets the abyss. A saying that rings in the back of your mind as you look beyond and see how fast the lights flicker on when the sun hasn't fully rolled down as the blanket of night shades the sun to rest as the moon and stars awake as the guard the sparking wisp night. Or when you sit at your desk, tapping your pen against the bulk of the desk surface, until the beat pumps like your heart when your dreary eyes gloomily look to the cloc...
Submitted to Contest #241
TW: Physical violence, goreHoneydew, oh, Honeydew. Where did the days go which, your walls stood high, So that when travelers trotted their aching feet with their steeds and merchandise in tow would be struck with warmth, ...
Submitted to Contest #240
TW: slight mentions of death and bloodThe woman had placed a bowl of milk at the edge of the slope near her home a day after slaying the lion. The lion’s skin hung tanning in a space near the fire to tan, and she had sliced the meat into portions, small slabs she stored in her cupboard and salted them, a slab of meat she was soaking for a meal later in the day, and the rest safely packaged away in a small shrine like spot in the corner of her abode.The woman held in her hand a twig covered in char, as she scrapped it against a slab of f...
Submitted to Contest #239
Wili had always been a run and go, Legs fidgeting as if they’d snap off and leave Their upper half behind in the dust without a second thought, They were always moving. Well, today- as always, Wili was on the move again, as they cycled down the street. Today was the day. It was Grandma’s birthday. Grandma had been getting worse since the flu outbreak this fall when Wili went to school. One of Wili’s roommates, Blu, had gotten the flu, and all he did was hack and yack, his face a vibrant burgundy, as the mucus that clogged his esophagus ad no...
Submitted to Contest #237
The winds hummed through those flimsy reaching tendons of trees and brush that frost fleeting eve. Up in the trees, the birds would peck and gravel again at their acorn nests, fixing up the worn out kneaded sticks like they would stay in them forever. The ground below me nestled and scratched as little weasels and voles play in the labyrinth down below, and the vixen hid her kits, safely at home cozy under the shade of the old birch tree roots. All around, action wafted through the trees, the ground, the air, yet here I lay, letting my body ...
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