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A weekly short story contest
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020
Submitted to Contest #198
"Take a deep slow breath in through your nose. One, two, three, four, five. Now slowly exhale through your nose and feel your belly empty. Five, four, three, two, one," says the yoga instructor. I lift my head off my mat and squint my eyes in the dark wooden room to take a look at the owner of the tranquilizing voice up front. The lithe, red-headed teacher sits in a meditation pose, the tiny center of a candle circle."Let's repeat the breath again slowly,” she says and I drop my anxious head and comply. After three rounds of breath, I alread...
Submitted to Contest #150
“Please don’t do that,” Isabella is standing behind me trying to grab her phone out of my outstretched hand as my thumb hovers over the blue “Disable Account” button in her favorite social media app. I feel Isabella’s breath on the back of my neck as she reaches her left arm underneath and I clamp my arm down, thwarting her attempt. She swings her other arm around the outside of my body, and I drop the phone down low, out of her reach. I turn to face her and say to my best friend since college, “Bella, stop and take a look at yourself right ...
Submitted to Contest #149
I’ve never seen a ghost, but I believe the people that have. I spend a lot of my time pondering what lies on the other side of this life, knowing deep down that my ‘research’ will only ever lead into a purgatory of unresolve, deep diving into an unanswerable abyss. That infamous Houdini secret word is ever present in my mind during my other worldly pursuits. The story goes that during their own quest for answers about what exists in the afterlife, Harry and Bess also set out to unmask fraudulent psychics (oxymoron?) in the process. Bess, ful...
Submitted to Contest #148
I awake abruptly by a loud bang. I’m not sure what time it is or even where I am. I was dreaming that college dream again where I’m late and can’t find the final exam room. A sobering second passes and I realize my life now revolves around financial statements, not sitting in the quad at 2 p.m. studying Philosophy and gossiping with my roommates. I stifle and yawn while I utter my usual bedroom refrain, “Alexa, what time is it?” She blinks blue. “It is 1:14 am,” she replies dutifully. I prop up on my elbows and grimace as reality sets in and...
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