Julia Gibson

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020

Stories (10)

10 Stories

231 karma pts

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“The Kiss” by Julia Gibson

Submitted to Contest #53

In high school I was a homely girl, not ugly, only plain and shy. Most people, including some in my family, just ignored me, so I didn’t have many friends. It would have been alright if people had just ignored me, but some decided it was okay to pick on me, to make a public spectacle of my shyness and plainness. “Kids will be kids,” you say, but the worst bully of all was an adult, the mother of one of the more popular girls in my school. She also happened to be my Aunt Elaine and the popular girl was my cousin, Margaret.Margaret w...

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“Father of the Bride” by Julia Gibson

Submitted to Contest #47

As you check your mail, you notice a letter that makes you stop in your tracks, a large brown envelope, addressed to you with the return address: Office of the Attorney General PO Box 12548 Austin, TX 78711-2548 You have been dreading this day and it’s finally here, the day when your questions will be answered, at least with 99% accuracy. You hesitate, then put the envelope...

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“Only the Important Things” by Julia Gibson

Submitted to Contest #47

The package you have been waiting for arrived today. Fingers trembling and heart racing, you open it to find a letter and an extremely small piece of luggage. You sit down to read the letter.Project AresIGNOTUM EST QUAERITIS28 April 2021Ms. Cynthia Kilpecker, 31245800-0WF1752 Rocky Mountain RoadDenver, CO 80202Dear Ms. Kilpecker,We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to participate in Project Ares. Please report to Ares Headquarters,...

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“The Critique Circle” by Julia Gibson

Submitted to Contest #46

Hi! My name is Talitha Henniker. I’m new to this group. I write poetry and short stories. Here’s my latest. Let me know what you think.The Little Red HenOnce there was a little red hen. She lived in a barnyard. One day as she was pecking in the garden, she found a grain of wheat.“Who will help me plant this wheat?” she asked.“Not I,” said the duck.“Not I,” said the goose.“Not I,” said the turkey.“Very well, I’ll do it myself.” And she did.

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“Song of Solomon” by Julia Gibson

Submitted to Contest #46

He had grown weary of late winter, that time when a dirty crust of snow still covered last year’s garden and the early robins fought over worms, rising from secret hibernation to turn the earth. The pale sun peeked through the trees, barely warm enough to turn the dusting of snow on the juniper tree to little icicles, cascading down the twisted branches. The wind blew against a branch and with a tinkling sound, the icicles broke free and tumbled to the ground, shattered like so many dreams.Snowshoe rabbit tracks bounded thro...

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“The Recess Bell” by Julia Gibson

Submitted to Contest #44

The sound of dripping water was driving me crazy. Drip, drip, drip! If it would just stop, then I could get back to my classwork. I sat at the back of the third grade row and I could see the whole classroom. All the kids in my row were busy with their times tables. The teacher was listening to fourth graders recite their spelling words and the fifth graders had their heads buried in their history books. It seems that nobody else noticed the dripping. I looked around, but I couldn’t see where the dripping w...

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“Three Hairs from a Bear's Tail” by Julia Gibson

Submitted to Contest #43

Once upon a time, in a little mountain village, there lived a young woman named Anya. Anya married a widower who had two children, a boy and a girl. She and the girl loved each other right away, but the boy was different. A homely and sullen child, he was suspicious of her. When she cooked dinner, he thanked her, but didn’t speak another word. When she tucked him in at night, he turned his face to the wall and ignored her as if to close her out. She wanted to get along with him, but as the days passed, things became even harder. Whe...

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“The Patchwork Quilt” by Julia Gibson

Submitted to Contest #43

I remember the first time I saw the quiltOn a visit to Grandmother’s placeShe kept it there in an old cedar chestWith sweet-smelling sachets of laceI was six years old and visiting Grandmother alone for the whole weekend. No sisters and brothers, just Grandmother and me. “Let me show you something special,” she said. Grandmother took the quilt out of the chest, unfolded it and spread it out carefully across the bed. “This isn’t just any old blanket, you know. It’s a scrapbook of our family.” As ...

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“Did You Know about Joe?” by Julia Gibson

Submitted to Contest #42

Joe Nguyen had been a quiet man. He was slight in build with a face that could be confused with any of hundreds of Vietnamese refugees who had moved into the community more than 40 years ago. His real name was Nguyen Cho Binh, but he had taken the name Joe because the minor official who recorded names on the “Boat People List” didn’t speak Vietnamese and Nguyen, Joe was the closest he could come. The name stayed and so did Joe. Joe started as a picker, gleaning fallen fruit from the ground underneath orange trees then selling hi...

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“Nilsson's Mate” by Julia Gibson

Submitted to Contest #42

“Fur Elise is just a song that Ludwig wrote. Fur Elise is really long. Play every note! Ow ow ow, ow owww…” Ten-year-old Greg held the last note until the dog began to howl. “Greg! That’s not practicing. Quit torturing Ludie and play it nice like you will in recital.” Greg’s mother, who was also his piano teacher, was busy in the kitchen. Ludwig, an ancient basset hound, had been asleep under the piano and when he stopped playing, Ludie plodded into the kitchen to beg a treat. Greg looked out the brownstone window to watch ...

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Author bio

I am an oral storyteller and retired teacher/librarian, finally taking the time to write stories that have been running around in my head.