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Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020
A beer can is whipped into the fire. The fire dissipates and grows back, swallowing the can. It sprays Benny, plus Bentley and his guitar. I look up from the mesmerizing fire. Dave is standing at the back of a camp chair with his arms resting on the top. His short brown hair is barely visible from the light of the fire. “You’re uninvited, Dave.” Benny jokes.  Dave pulls himself up from the chair and walks toward his tent. His black shirt makes him blend into the darkness. His wife follows behind him, demanding they go on a walk. Their ...
I raise the crosshairs to the enemies head. They continue eating, oblivious of what was about to happen. I start to shake. I lower my gun and open my other eye. The world turns black. Was I shot? My chest becomes heavy, and my face is wet. I slowly come to and open my eyes to a tan snout with a pink tongue. I pet the long, sleek body that is laying across my chest. A few minutes go by, and I sit up against the shelves. Gauge plants himself across my lap, keeping me grounded. I play with the many tags on his vest. Things I've collected...
Submitted to Contest #43
“Mama, what is it?” “I don’t know. I don’t recognize the smell.” Mama picked the Thing up by the back of its neck. It was too heavy for her, so she had to drag it. Mama had another litter of puppies so she cared for the Thing like it was her own. She bathed it and gave it food. The Thing had light skin and no hair. Papa said he had smelled it once before, and that the Thing usually carried sticks that made a loud bang. After a bang, a member of the pack would disappear. “Mama, why does this Thing not have a stick?” “I think this one is a pup...
"Annie? Are you there?" “You heard it, too?”  “Yeah, what was it?”  Annie and I decided to go up in the woods to camp for the weekend. It is a summer ritual that we have been doing for 7 years. Since Annie’s dad died, I am the only one Annie will talk to and we started camping every summer. Annie was diagnosed with depression a year after his death, and she adopted a service dog named Charlie. Annie talks a lot more and it helps her too. Charlie was a 2-year-old golden retriever when Annie first got her, and she turned eight a few ...
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