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Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2023
Submitted to Contest #238
I never thought I was a big talker. I’m just not one of those garrulous types. So, the silent retreat sounded like the place for me. Having just been through a recent, huge life change, it felt like the perfect timing to retreat from the world and to contemplate things with no background noise interfering with it. What added to the appeal was the fact that it was being held on a private island. I couldn’t wait to get into the wilderness and rediscover the parts of myself that had got lost in my divorce. I brought a notebook with me. It was m...
Submitted to Contest #237
All it took. Set the scene. Sky so empty. Not a bird. Not a plane. Riverbank our seat. Padded with grass. I smile upwards. Sky blesses us. No rain today. That is rare. We are Irish. We are neighbours. Always have been. She is favoured. She is exceptional. A beautiful rarity. We are serene. Swans alongside us. Glide on water. Ripples barely noticeable. What a day. Memorable for eternity. Plain to some. Not to me. Significant as birth. Amy my equal. Seated like bookends. Watching shared view. We are lucky. We are free. Unburdened by age. Every...
Submitted to Contest #236
In my street, there is a portal. People have been talking about it since I was young. Several people have disappeared into it, never to return. We can only speculate about what it does and where it takes them. Sometimes morbid curiosity is stronger than good sense. For decades, I resisted the temptation to go there. I was quite comfortable in my future facing life. I’ve always been keen on my tech, and I can’t seem to breathe without lifting a device. I’m a full-fledged future lover. But there was always that tug of the unknown, like a naugh...
Submitted to Contest #235
Lacy left her lazy husband. She kicked up the dust as she ran. She didn’t think beyond that moment. It was better not to think too far ahead. If she did, she’d panic. She left the house without anything but the sneakers on her feet and a couple of bank notes stashed in a wallet secured to her torso. Her legs felt long and free. They’d felt ensnared for so long. Stretching them was a kind of ecstasy she’d been imagining for a decade.She was an athlete in school before she met Tim. She thought he was a good guy, but she hadn’t known the real T...
Submitted to Contest #234
Twelve hours to go...I should be thinking about all the meaningful things in my life. I should be revisiting the well-thumbed memories in my mind’s catalogue of experience. I should be itching to see all the people I haven’t had a chance to catch up with. I doubt they’ll come. Would I, in their position? I should be making atonement for my past errors. I should be writing letters of apology. I should be doing all the things that you’re meant to take care of. All I can think of is my own body. All I can feel is the duvet wrapped around my mot...
Submitted to Contest #233
1st January The challenge begins. I’ve promised myself and my friends I won’t swear for an entire month. On the 1st of February, I’ll be shouting expletives all over the street, but until then, I have to keep my big mouth shut. ****, this is going to be hard. You don’t realise how much you do something until you make a rule that you can’t. A mate of mine suggested it as a joke. He bet me if I started a swear jar that it’d be overflowing by the end of a week, but I’m determined to prove him wrong. Now that I have to be aware of it, I’m rea...
Submitted to Contest #232
How I ended up on Svalbard simply comes down to work. I was given an assignment to cover the Northern Lights. I had photographed so many things in hot, dry countries the world over, but I’d never been a fan of the cold. It was something that filled me with dread: going to stay on a remote island where Winter reigned, and darkness dictated the unfolding of our days. I knew it would invite depression, just being there for a number of weeks. I knew not a soul there, and that hadn’t mattered on any of my other assignments, but there was somethin...
Submitted to Contest #231
I set the anthology down on the side table and thought about the words that still lingered in my mind. It was a beautiful piece of poetry and it made me think about hope in a new way. It was always there, whether I chose to acknowledge it or not. I always lost it a bit after Christmas, when the decorations were stripped away and I succumbed to the January blues. I knew I wasn’t the only person to do that. Whenever I walked through a day the colour of granite, I could sense others feelings of depression too. There was a heaviness in the air a...
Submitted to Contest #230
Don’t forget to: Take the decorations down, wrap them in tissue paper and box them up to be stowed away under the stairs until next year. Carefully take down the crepe paper decorations so they don’t tear. Keep the Christmas cards and fill out the address book with anyone we missed this year. Send belated Happy New Year cards to any we did forget. Get some iced fingers from the bakery for whenever Joan calls round for a cup of tea. Get fruit soda for breakfast and a Belfast bap to go with some stew this week. Pay the milkman and the ...
Submitted to Contest #229
The snowfall didn’t abate on my journey home. I hadn’t been back in a long time. I lived on a different continent, so it wasn’t exactly easy to hop across the water and be back at my family home. It was worthwhile making the visit to spend Christmas with my folks. They were getting older, and so was I, and I suddenly didn’t feel like celebrating the holidays alone anymore. Once I got within one hundred miles of my birthplace, I knew it by the characteristic snowfall that used to plague us every winter. It was beautified by distance and me...
Have you ever seen the movie Groundhog Day? I loved it until that became my Christmas every year. It always felt like a laughably improbable concept, until it came to fruition in my own life. One year, I started going to my great aunt Grace’s for the entirety of Christmas Day. I planned for it to be a one-off. She’s a pain in the proverbial; everything always has to be “just so.” She put me in in charge of bringing a decorative garland for the table centrepiece. I’m not a centrepiece kind of guy. I didn’t even know where to get one, but s...
Submitted to Contest #228
I have always known about food nostalgia. Food has the power to take you back to a moment long ago that had almost fallen into the recesses of your memory for good. One bite and bang: you’re back in that moment, tasting the flavour you associate with something you weren’t even conscious of. For me, it evokes more than a feeling of wistfulness for bygone times. Clementine cakes are the taste of my childhood. My grandmother used to bake them for every family celebration we had. They were little cakes that contained a powerful flavour, like lit...
Submitted to Contest #227
Sensitive Content - References to Death and Grief Jean saw the first snow of the season. It surprised her when the nurse opened the curtains. She was used to looking at the grey Northern Irish sky. It hung heavily above her: oppressive and a constant reminder that she was closed into the world and her husband had departed to the sky. George had died the previous year. They used to share a room in the nursing room, but now it was all hers. She’d never wanted to have her own space, even though it was a room made for one. Slowly, her family h...
The whipped cream towered over the rim of Rachel’s mug. It had a gentle dusting of cocoa powder and a layer of marshmallow melt cushioned below the swirl of cream. It smelled as inviting as it looked: like carefully collated Christmas memories in a cup. Eve had arrived just in time for them to both make it to the head of the café’s queue. A minute later, the whole town seemed to spill in. There was a blizzard after all. The coffee shop was the engine at the centre of everything; like a heart that kept pulsing no matter what transpired around...
Submitted to Contest #226
The turkey was basted. It looked moister than usual. That was a real achievement for the Conor Family. Dry turkey was as much of a tradition as family fights were. Everyone served up the sweet potato pie and then they fell into disgruntlement with one another. There were six members of the family that attended dinner at the Conor’s family homestead each and every year. They could grow vegetables quicker than most people can grow the hair on their heads, but the turkey was always bone dry, and Aunt Clarissa would always be first to comment on...
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