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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2024
Submitted to Contest #300
The year was 12491 AD.Humanity’s descendants, part-organic, part-synthetic, no longer called Earth home. Their bloodlines flowered among the stars — from fragile colonies on ice moons to sprawling cities orbiting crimson suns.The proudest cradle was K2-18b, a wet, green world beneath a cool red star, hundreds of light-years away. It was there the children of Earth learned to breathe new air, to speak new tongues, and to forget.Yet for all their advancements, memory tugged like a gravity that could not be escaped.And so they returned, a handf...
Submitted to Contest #296
The garage door hissed open with a pneumatic sigh, and Rohan stepped inside with a box nearly as tall as him. “Alright, everyone—come here! You’re gonna want to see this.”Divya, his teenage daughter, didn’t look up from her phone. “Is it another rice cooker that sings or something?”Meera emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her dupatta, eyes narrowing. “Rohan, what now?”Rohan set the box down in the middle of the living room and grinned. “Prototype K-7. We’re calling him Kip.”The box hummed. Then clicked. A side panel unfolded, and ...
Submitted to Contest #290
"Men of Sparta, hear me."Under the unrelenting midday sun, rows of Spartan warriors stood at attention, their sweat-soaked tunics clinging to bodies honed by relentless training. The courtyard smelled of iron and dust, a testament to ceaseless drills. But on this day, their sharpened spears rested at their feet, for there would be no drills.General Lysandros surveyed them with a steady gaze. His armor gleamed in the golden light, crested helmet tucked under his arm. Behind him, three women in flowing crimson-and-gold veils stood in silence, ...
Submitted to Contest #286
Ethan slouched against the cool leather seat, as a cacophony of reporters’ voices crackled from his phone. The screen displayed a news broadcast overlaid with a photograph of a stern-faced man: Thomas Scott, the wealthiest individual on Earth and CEO of Scott Industries. Bold headlines scrolled beneath the image, declaring his unexpected death earlier that morning. A poised news anchor appeared next. “Thomas Scott’s sudden passing leaves a power vacuum at the world’s largest conglomerate. Known for dominating industries from defense manufact...
Submitted to Contest #283
For the last few months, every time someone asks how I’m doing, I force a smile and say, “I’m doing good.” But I see the way their eyebrows twitch, how their eyes linger on my face, silently asking for something more. It’s like speaking a different language—one where “good” never really means good.My friends aren’t much better. They keep asking, “How’s the family holding up?” and I nod and say, “We’re doing good.” Yet their silence always stretches a beat too long, as if they’re waiting for a crack in my composure—tears, anger, anything that...
Submitted to Contest #282
I pushed open the bedroom door and began my usual descent down the carpeted stairs, each step echoing softly in the quiet house. At the bottom of the stairs, a full-length mirror hung against the wall, reflecting my weary image. Grey strands peppered through my hair, baggy eyes that spoke of sleepless nights, and a face etched with lines of nihilism and regret stared back at me. I looked at my reflection, disappointed by the man I had become. This wasn’t someone I was proud of.Shaking off the unsettling reflection, I continued walking throug...
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