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A weekly short story contest
Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020
Submitted to Contest #78
Journal # 1 Today is the start of a new year and already the unlocked potential seems to be bubbling in me. I have decided to take up knitting because I think it would be a good way to keep my hands busy while I kick cigs to the curb. Michael says I am not going to follow through. But this time is different. I know it. I have been practicing my knits and purls and am going to be making people gifts by the end of this year. Journal #5 Michael moved out. He says my smoking is too much for him to deal with. Since he quit he became...
Submitted to Contest #62
The lights were flashing. Blinking bright like a pulse as it begins to race in fear. My fear. My hands move to hold my head. I am surprised to find them restrained. Banded to whatever table I have found myself on. A heavy sigh escapes, my mind races as I scan the room around me in search of some clue about where I could be. My head shrieks in answer, pain like a sawblade cuts through all thought. Tears stream down my cheeks, pattering the table as I fight the pain. Fight the pain and think! Sudden flashes fill my mind's eye, my fingernails...
Submitted to Contest #49
David put his eye to the telescope eyepiece, Mars was eluding him. With a sigh, he stepped back and hugged his jacket around him. The temperature had begun to drop after 8, and his light coat was not helping anymore. Walking back into the house he thought about what the problem might be. Mars should be large and visible tonight, and yet he could not get it into focus. Even in less than ideal conditions, it is close enough to get at least a red dot on the scope. He had been viewing it for 5 nights in a row since the beginning of O...
Submitted to Contest #46
The cursor blinked on the screen, seeming to blink away the seconds as she stared at it. The words seemed lost now. It was if the thin blinking line had hypnotized her. Bringing with it a fog in which all inspiration had disappeared. Scooting back from the table, she rubbed at her eyes. Why was it so difficult to find a thread of story? It had been such a long hiatus, but coming back to it now felt like trying to think through cotton balls. She reached for her tea, only to found it had gone cold. Standing, she picked it up and went to make m...
Coordinator of chaos, and wannabe writer.
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