reedsymarketplace
Hire professionals for your project
reedsyblog
Advice, insights and news
reedsylearning
Online publishing courses
reedsylive
Free publishing webinars
reedsydiscovery
Launch your book in style
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2021
Submitted to Contest #253
“So let me get this straight”, says Detective Williams as he rubs his temples. “You had a ‘bad feeling’ that something was going to happen to the plane and told all the passengers that if they got on the flight, they would die?” He can’t help but sound incredulous. “You’re good. You get straight to the meat and potatoes of things.” Vera downs the last of her Diet Coke. “Can I get another?” Having been pulled directly from her flight as it landed, a flight she snored through, her hair is in desperate need of a brush. Makeup smudge...
Submitted to Contest #252
“Fuck, I hate the athletic ones!”, Vera groans as they speedwalk up Fifth Avenue. She’s dressed in Doc Martens, denim cut offs, and a cropped white T, iced coffee in hand. Her jet black hair and full-sleeve tattoos provide an edgy aesthetic but her slight build diminishes her capacity for intimidation. “Why can’t she walk at a normal speed?” “Some people have places to go and people to see, dearest”, remarks Roman. Towering more than a foot over her, he easily keeps stride with Vera. Two siblings could not appear to be more starkly con...
Submitted to Contest #251
CW: groomingHead in my hands, I stare down at the phone in my lap, willing it to ring. The hospital staff insisted I go home to rest, but sleep eludes me. How can I, when the only family I have left lies unconscious in an operating room? The life of the man who helped raise me is in someone else’s hands. Pushing to my feet, I pace my brother’s study. His house is closer to the hospital and I find solace from being in the place he inhabits. The map I gave him several Christmases ago is centered on the wall, pins mark over a hundred...
Submitted to Contest #250
“You understand how difficult it has been since Catherine’s passing. It hurts my pride to admit this, but I miss being a kept man. At least when your beloved Althea passed your children were grown”, says Lord Reginald. “Reginald, my friend, do not forget, my youngest is the same age as your Alfred. And she has no older sisters to mentor her into womanhood”, retorts Lord Cornelius. “Yes, yes, of course you are right. A beautiful creature she is too, although she always seems to be scampering about and getting underfoot. It is very...
Submitted to Contest #249
“Christina!” The barista shouts over the humdrum of the steaming appliances. My shoulder collides with another woman’s as we both step forward and I profusely apologize. Our eyes meet and she does a double take. I clock the woman immediately and wish a sandworm would swallow me whole. “Chrissy?!” It takes every fiber of my being not to grimace at the diminutive that I’ve always detested. Being the other Christina, the quiet one, was irksome growing up, especially when she was gregarious, popular, and generally admired. She was the perf...
Submitted to Contest #247
It’s Tuesday, April 23rd and Paula wakes at the same time she does everyday, between 5:45 and 5:55am. Rising, she turns off the alarm that never sounds and quickly pivots to make the bed. She reaches for her shorts and sports bra that she had laid out carefully the night before. For a twenty-three year old, she’s seemingly got her shit together. A recent transplant to New York City, she lives in a one bedroom apartment in an up-and-coming neighborhood of Queens. Although moving across the country required a considerable adjustmen...
Submitted to Contest #246
U around? I stare at the message from an unknown number with the 326 area code. David is the only person I know who would send such a message, and at this hour. His constant roving and ineptitude at refilling his prepaid phone account means I can never get a hold of him. I sit up in bed, it’s 1:07am and I’ve already tossed and turned fruitlessly for over an hour. My back aches from the twenty-year-old twin mattress in my childhood bedroom. He knows I make the rounds during the holidays, returning home to visit old friends. I’ve been waiting ...
Submitted to Contest #244
If my mother were a dog she would have been put down by now. I’m not saying that to be cruel. If you knew her before you would know this isn’t what she would have wanted. Instead, the vessel that used to contain my mother’s soul, is rotting away in a nursing home one town over. She doesn’t recognize me anymore but I still go visit. I want to maintain some semblance of a connection with my only living parent, even if that parent is no longer grounded in reality. In the Alzheimer’s caregiver support group there are differing opinions on ...
Shortlisted for Contest #242 ⭐️
“I don’t get art,” says Katrina. “Why pay so much for something that looks like a kindergartner made it?” She is staring at a beautifully chaotic painting stationed in the foyer. “That’s a Molinkska original”, replies Jake, approaching from behind. “It also happens to be my personal favorite.” “Well, to each his own.” Her roving eye gave it one last look before moving on to the next painting hanging in the bright foyer. “It’s just not my cup of tea. I much prefer something more traditional, like a landscape or portrait.” Jake sidesteps...
Submitted to Contest #241
He had made her a promise. Her help in exchange for a lifetime together. She had held up her end of the bargain. She saved their lives and got them to this faraway, distant place. He in return had agreed to the marriage and to be hers forever. And now, this. Ten years of marriage and four children later, he was leaving her. Yet she vowed that she wouldn’t let him go easily. Maybe he just needed a reminder of all that she had done for him. She had protected him, counseled him, nursed his father back to health, and even killed for him. H...
Submitted to Contest #239
Six boxes. After eight-six years of life all that remains of her earthly possessions are six cardboard boxes. Looking at the cartons from the entryway, I get the feeling that my mother would be disappointed that we weren’t able to pare it down to fewer items. “Well at least that is done”, says Jack, my older brother. It’s been another long weekend of sorting, cleaning, boxing, and a fair amount of arguing, but the apartment in which our mother spent the last thirty-two years of her life is finally empty. ...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: