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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2024
Submitted to Contest #295
“Let them eat cake!” or . . . dramatic pause, drum roll please . . . “Find my secret door!”They’ll never find it, the secret door, that is, not the cake. Of this, I am sure. A queen keeps her secrets close to her chest, after all. The doorway is hiding in plain sight, right in front of everyone’s nose, should they dare to look. It couldn’t be any more obvious, as a matter of fact.With everything I have been through and with everything I have to endure in my daily life as queen, I think I have a right to my privacy and secrets. What do I have...
Submitted to Contest #293
I really should have realized how vindictive Heather could be. What is that saying? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. When she found out I was seeing someone else and had traded her in for the other woman – a younger, prettier model, I just know that it was that very moment that she decided to exact her revenge. Unfortunately, Heather knows all of my secrets, including the biggest one of all – the fact that I am a world renowned jewel thief who has recently completed one of the largest heists of the century – the theft of the Weat...
Submitted to Contest #292
I’ve always loved horses, ever since I was a little girl. I am lucky enough now, at the age of eighteen, to have my own horse. Yes, I have the finest horse imaginable. Black as night, majestic, sure footed, strong. Able to speed like the wind, but dependable and gentle. Dark as night, coal black, he is. I call him Midnight.He’s a very tall horse. I don’t know exactly how many hands he stands, but most people around here say he’s too much horse for a wee girl like me to handle. When they say that, I tell them, inside my own mind of course bec...
Submitted to Contest #291
New Orleans in the rain suits Cal and his ever changing moods. The city is at times brash and festive, and at others, tawdry and shameful, like a perpetual partier who overindulges and wakes up with sharp stabs of pain in his head – a hangover that lasts all day. The thought of sunshine, really any kind of bright light, causes Cal to wince. The rain and darkness allows him to wallow in well deserved misery. Laissez les bons temps rouler has run its course. The good times aren’t rolling at the moment, either for him or for New Orlea...
Submitted to Contest #290
I rememberOur last kiss.It was purple.It happened The day after I got a black eye.The black eyeCame from you.Followed by the kiss.It was a Saturday afternoon,An ordinary day,A day that startedLike any other.We were at home,I was doing laundry,The washer started leaking.Water ran all over theDirty tile floor.(I really needed to wash that floor,Even before the leak,But somehow never could find the time.)I wiped the water up With an old, threadbare towel,And wondered aloudDid I need to call a plumber?You didn’t answer my question...
Submitted to Contest #289
The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. I am laying in a single bed with white sheets and a thin white blanket. It is a mechanical bed with buttons that allow either the head or foot to be raised. My head is elevated. On each side of me, there are silver safety bars, containing me so I don’t fall out. I have an IV in one arm and circular pads with wires coming out of them attached to my chest. A monitor behind me shows a pattern of multicolored waves that are ascending and descending in rhythm. Corresponding numbers flash at the...
Submitted to Contest #287
Friday night lights,Small town,High school football game,The place to be.All the big fishSwimming in a tiny pondAre there.A raven haired girl on the dance teamShakes her shiny pom poms,Flashes a killer smile,It’s her sweet sixteen birthday.She is pretty and popular.Life is good.She prances in front ofAn adoring crowd withHer select pack of friends.Fellow mean girls.Everyone thinks it’s coolTo be a pom pom girl,Not everyone makes the cut.Another boy,A lowly freshman,Sits on hard, cold bleachers,With his newly made, Wallflower friendsExci...
Submitted to Contest #285
I look at the sign over the door, “Beauville Historical Society,” my new home. I am now an artifact, a historical thing. How have I gotten to be this old, this obsolete? Does anyone even use grinding wheels anymore to sharpen things? It has been a long time since I have felt anyone’s hands on me. Prior to coming here, I had been sitting in a dusty old barn for years, unused, unloved. That is, until someone decided to move me. A tattooed young man wearing an earring, a stranger to me, threw me in the back of his pickup and brought me here, dr...
Submitted to Contest #283
Sherrie sat in the employee cafeteria on a hard plastic chair, unwrapping a soggy tuna sandwich — one that she had no appetite for whatsoever. She gave a deep sigh, before admitting defeat and returning the sandwich to its cellophane wrapper. She couldn’t eat it. Her stomach was in knots. Her physical state mirrored her emotions. She was despondent and stuck in a funk. She hadn’t heard from her boyfriend all week. That was highly unusual. Not only did they work in the same building, but they also ate lunch together everyday in this very...
Submitted to Contest #276
I have always believed that holidays have colors. Thanksgiving, which is rapidly approaching, is a bright yellow, vibrant orange, deep green, rich brown, and sometimes a muted gold – the colors of vegetables spilling out of a cornucopia, also known as a “horn of plenty.” The colors are many and varied, but they are all in the autumnal family. The colors are reflected in my Thanksgiving decorations. These are the things I pull out every year in late October/early November – my yellow patterned tablecloth with turkeys on it, a welcome mat...
Submitted to Contest #275
“I think we should have a seance,” Amber said.“What’s that?” I asked uneasily.“It’s where you talk to dead people, to ghosts,” she replied.“Talk to ghosts?” My voice shook.“Yeah,” Courtney chimed in. “Sleepovers are the best time to talk to spirits. The spirits are more receptive late at night. I hear midnight’s the best time. And it’s almost midnight now.”“Yeah,” Amber giggled. “And we can’t talk about boys all night.”“Why not?” I tried to keep my voice light. I would much rather talk about boys than talk to ghosts, even if boys make m...
Submitted to Contest #274
On a day when the calendar slipped from late summer to early fall, I went to an art exhibit in my hometown. The exhibit was held in a grand mansion which was converted to an Arts Center. The historic old house, bequeathed to the city by a generous benefactor for cultural purposes, had floor to ceiling vaulted windows overlooking the rolling, immense waters of Lake Michigan. It was very windy that day, and the waves crashed into the rocks dotting the shoreline, sending a spray of water into the air. The turbulence in the air changed the water...
Submitted to Contest #271
Cal and Sherrie were seated at a high top table at their favorite restaurant. They both liked eating there for different reasons. Cal liked the place because, in addition to having his favorite gooey cheese curds and chicken wings with just the right spice, it also was a sports bar. Everywhere he looked, there were large screen TVs, showing the games of all of his favorite teams. The atmosphere was loud and raucous. He could cheer or boo along with fellow rowdy fans. After a long and difficult work week, it was a relief to let off some ...
Submitted to Contest #270
I have a picture on my kitchen wall that talks to me and tells me stories. It shows a horse and buggy with its faceless driver traveling down cobblestoned streets. The picture appears repeatedly on my patterned gold wallpaper. At first when I heard it talk, early one morning, I thought I was going crazy, or was not yet awake and still dreaming. I live in my grandparents’ house, a house that my carpenter grandfather built long ago. Grandma would be 112 years old if she were alive today. My grandfather was slightly older than her.&nb...
Submitted to Contest #268
At the church that day, I had the strangest sense of déjà vu, like I had surely been there before although I don’t remember exactly when. I almost felt like I was in a dream, or as if I had been teleported there, time traveling or something. Everything felt surreal. I could hear the organ playing the bridal chorus. Here comes the Bride, all dressed in white. And the bride was me. I was there to get married. I could picture everyone sitting in the pews, bride's side on the left, groom’s side on the right. Everyone was expectantly waiting...
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