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A weekly short story contest
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2024
Submitted to Contest #255
“I don’t want to see you anymore.” I should have known. Curse my unrelenting optimism. The signs were glaringly obvious, now that I look back. We had been seeing each other casually for five months with nothing to show for it. I’d asked him multiple times if we were exclusive, and each time he’d changed the subject. I felt like such an idiot. The morning sun shone brightly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the chipped sunflower-patterned coffee mug steaming where it sat in front of me. My fingernails tapped the mahogany table delic...
Submitted to Contest #253
One would never guess that Maxine Ravenwood was in her mid sixties at first glance. With long, wild black hair and smooth, freckled skin, she looked the same as she did when was in her late thirties. Maxine plaited her hair so it was away from her face and sighed, adjusting the wide-brimmed hat sitting atop her head. She thought the hat, cloak, and birchwood, orb-topped staff were a little too on the nose for her place of work, but it was her last day before retirement, so she decided to ignore her costumed appearance for once. She grabbed h...
Submitted to Contest #250
The night was inky black, the stars bright. The sound of music pulsated from the gymnasium a dozen feet away. Goosebumps pimpled my skin, and my breath clouded in the freezing cold air. But none of that mattered. I was outside with Malia St. Michaels. She was beautiful, per usual. With long, gold-tipped black box braids, smoky eyeliner, and a form-fitting blazer dress, she looked years beyond her age. I was totally, absolutely enamored with her, and I had been since the day we met, our first day of freshmen year. I never imagined I’d g...
Submitted to Contest #249
“The sky is looking ugly, Trav.”I glance upward, my attention on driving momentarily forgotten. Rosie and I have been driving through the back roads of Iowa for the past four hours, and my vision is starting to get blurry. The sky is turning an ugly slate gray, a color similar to the road winding ahead of us. In the far distance, thunder clouds roil.“Maybe we should find a place to spend the night?” Rosie asks, shifting in the passenger’s seat. Her thighs make a slurping noise as she adjusts, the hot vinyl unforgiving. When the mechanic had ...
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