Josephine Alcott

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

97 karma pts

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“Duchenne” by Josephine Alcott

Submitted to Contest #274

Hey Sammy. There’s something we should talk about. In her bedroom, curtains drawn, before a candlelit altar was where Veronika knelt at precisely 8pm each night before bed. I’ll be going out for a bit this evening. Nothing too crazy, just a few hours. So I don’t want to startle you- As she stares at a framed photo of her deceased lover, Veronika can’t help but notice a mark at the bottom right corner of the glass. I mean, I know it’s been 3 years- She wipes away at the smudge with a bit of excess draped over the table. So I don’t mean to sta...

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“To Toby, From Mandy” by Josephine Alcott

Submitted to Contest #52

Fanbright, California, is a literal shithole. Never in my fifteen (out of eighteen) years of life breathing its polluted, industrial air did I compliment it once. In fact, the only humans who have been cursed with the knowledge of its existence are those who live in it, and those who have escaped it. I’ve done both. In 2005, we moved to Fanbright for a pretty boring reason: cheap housing. It’s a good idea to save money before sending your kid off to college, which leaves me to where I am now: pac...

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“Hot Cheetos in Death Valley” by Josephine Alcott

Submitted to Contest #39

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”The most extraordinary, spectacular, out-of-this-world event Adam Park had come across in nearly seven months was happening right before his eyes.“There’s no way I’m seeing this right now”, he went on with a slight snort. This was, without a doubt, going into his “Post-Apocalyptic Journal: The First Textbook For A New Generation” (the title was long, but he thought it had a nice, satirical ring to it).“I’m the only human alive in this entire world, and you would think a random Costco in Death Valley wo...

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“Number Three: Kelly Branwood” by Josephine Alcott

Submitted to Contest #38

There is a sort of stuffiness in a quiet room. White noise can pack itself as high as the ceiling that it traps whoever chooses to stay. Laura Lopez, throughout her ten years of life, had become accustomed to this infinite loneliness (or at least it felt infinite). She spent nearly every day alone in her room that she mistook the suffocation of silence for the warmth of peace. Her disillusion was induced by three solutions. Number One: music. Laura believed the stems of notes can pierce through the pressure of s...

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